The Beast who Feeds the Feast
by potosw
Summary: Fate has thrust someone new into Erik's life. Can the man who believes himself a beast save the one who thinks herself one as well? And, with the past rearing its ugly head, how will the two fair?
1. Chapter 1

AN: Well, let us delve into the world of the Phantom of the Opera. This tale shall be set shortly after the disaster that was Don Juan. Reviews are, of course, welcome and encouraged. Without further ado, I ask you to join me in this new tale I shall spin for you.

xxx

The Paris Opera House. The once grand opera house now stood empty, destroyed by the hands of the infamous Opera Ghost. The destruction was wrought by the evil specter falling in love with the gorgeous Christine Daae. The destruction was wrought by unrequited love and by the interference of one noble who sought the hand of the one he knew from so long ago. Or so the rumors went.

A young woman stood in front of the opera house now. As it had no one living inside, it would be the perfect place for her to take up temporary residence from the biting cold of winter. The opera house would certainly provide more heat than the simple black dress and black cloak she wore. Even the small blanket in the pack on her back, she knew, would provide little comfort against the elements at night.

The woman, Eloise, was not one to believe in rumors. She did not have the time nor the luxury for such things. The opera house would provide her a relatively warm place to stay. The world had been hard to her. She had been abandoned at birth, and she had been taken in by the gypsies. By some odd trick of fate, little Eloise had been favored. None of the men tried to harm her in any way. The gypsy leader, Markus, had always kept her close. Still, the time came when she was made to leave the camp. She had become too much of a burden to the camp. Food had been scarce, and Markus could not afford to keep supplying her with food since she was unable to work for him. From that point on, the young woman had been alone. That had been nearly twelve years ago.

Finding her way to Paris from her home country of Germany had been anything but easy. Eloise had very little money, and she refused to sell her body for the money. Her body, her innocence, was the only thing that she truly could call her own. No one could steal that away from her. No, she had managed to sneak aboard trains and backs of carriages all the way to the City of Love. It had taken quite some time, and she had hoped to see an opera at the opera house. Sadly, it seemed that she would not be able to hear the angels of music sing in this place. Still, it did not deter her from slowly making her way towards the music center.

It also did not deter the two men who had spotted a young woman all on her own in an unpopulated area of the city. It appeared that they would finally get to have a release.

xxx

How long had it been since _she _had left? How long had it been since the total destruction of everything that he had worked so hard to craft? Was she happy with _him_? Why had that _boy _not spoken of his location to anyone? It would only be a matter of time before the fop would say something. Maybe _she _was protecting him? No, no, he could not go down that path again. No, that had taken a harsh punishment to his mind, thinking that the angel could love, or even care for, the beast.

The once Phantom quietly strode through the abandoned opera house, lost in his thoughts. He did not know what there was to live for at this point. The once proud man did not bother to hide behind his masque any longer. He did not bother with the wig. For who was there to present himself to? There was no one left. Everyone had gone. What point was there to looking presentable? Still, he kept himself dressed well-a standard gentleman's attire of slacks, dress shirt, and dress coat. It was something he did more out of habit than anything else, he guessed. Maybe it had something to do with his cracked and probably long gone psychology. Something broken in his head probably made him dress well so his mind would not slip back to the memories of the gypsy camp and how they had dressed him. Well, sometimes they would not dress him at all, spouting something that the Devil's Child did not need clothing or something of the sort.

Oh, but there he went again, the Phantom realized. His mind was quickly sinking back into the memories that caused him the most torment. When that torment would become too much, he knew all too well what he would do to silence the thoughts. The Persian had come only once since the incident with his-no, with the singer. That was what he had to call her. But yes, the Persian had come once and had taken away those mind altering drugs. Surely, the Persian knew that he had more? But, the man had said very little and had only given him a sad look before disappearing from the ruined lair. It was no matter. The Phantom knew where he could get more of those drugs. It was not as if he had not found some since the Persian had left him.

His thoughts had distracted him and led him to a side entrance of the opera house. The Phantom had not been outside since before the night of Don Juan. He had no reason to leave this place. His lair's traps had been built up. No one could get to him, except the pesky Persian. He had to wonder how that was possible, but, if he were honest, he didn't really care. Nothing mattered anymore. He could very well walk outside right now, be captured, and end his pitiful existence. He did not want to live as it were. The torturous memories his mind concocted were enough to drive him insane. Or, was he already insane? He was not entirely sure any longer.

That thought of ending it all seemed all too appealing to his damaged mind. Without another thought or care of who might be outside, the Phantom pulled the door open. The sight that he found in front of him snapped him out of his mental abyss. Everything became clearly focused once more, and the anger that he felt pool inside his core felt most wondrous compared to the normal numbness in his heart.

There, in the side entrance where no one was able to see from the street, was a woman held captive by two men. She was stripped of her dress, though her cloak somehow remained in place. A rope was tied about her mouth, effectively gagging her. One man stood behind her, holding her firm so that she was unable to escape. Her arm was held twisted behind her at an awkward angle. It was a wonder that it was not yet broken. The other arm lay limp at her side, sadly broken. It was the other man, though, that was causing more damage than this one. He was…one with her. The woman clearly was not a willing partner in any of this.

xxx

Eloise had just come to the entrance of the opera house. It appeared to be a side entrance. From the street, no one would be able to see her. It was all too perfect. She would be able to slip in and have a place to stay for the night. Who knew? She could end up staying here longer than that. There was no telling how long it would take someone to decide to repair this place of music. All she had to do now was break in. That was as simple as picking the lock. She crouched in front of it and removed two pieces of slim metal from her pack.

She was not aware that she had been followed until she heard someone clear his throat. She quickly turned to see two men staring down at her. One was muscular and stocky. The other was lean and tall. Could these men work at the opera house? Had they worked here? She would need to come up with a quick lie. The last thing she needed was for these two men to report her. It had taken far too long to get here only to end up arrested. She would not fare well in prison. But, before she was able to start her explanation, she noticed the way the men were looking at her-like she was meat.

Quickly, Eloise stood up and brushed off her dress. She did not say anything to the men as she quickly tried to push by them. The slimmer to the two men leaned his hand against the wall, his arm supporting his weight and cutting off one of her escape routes. The larger man stood to the right of his partner with his arms crossed. There went her other escape route.

"Excuse me," Eloise stated flatly. She was not going to deal with these two men. She would simply find a means to outsmart them and run away. She would come back later, when it would be safe. Yes, she would have to remain in the cold for the time being, but it was better than-

The taller man laughed. "You aren't going anywhere, pet," he stated with a smile curling upon his lips. "See, Gus and I haven't had a good time with a lady in a while. You fit the bill." He snapped his fingers and the larger man, Gus, grabbed the woman and bent her arm painfully behind her back. Gus would make sure she could not escape. The tall man laughed again when he saw the fear in the woman's eyes. "You don't have to be scared. I hate it when people look at me all scared, don't you, Gus?"

"Sure do," Gus replied. With his other hand, he pulled down the hood of her cloak and grabbed her hair to force her to look at him now. "You don't have to be looking all scared in those eyes." With a harsh move of his other hand, he broke her arm. Her scream brought pain to her eyes. Gus only laughed at her. "Your eyes say too much." With his now free hand, he fished in his pocket as his partner watched and she squirmed. She sure was weak if she wasn't able to escape when only being held by the hair. From his pocket, he pulled a sewing needle. It would be enough to blind her with. And blind her, he did.

The pain was something Eloise could not possibly describe. These two men were torturing her, in clear public. It was the evening, and shadows had covered this entrance. To add to it, this entrance was far from the street, so no one would hear her. Worse still, if someone did hear screaming, the person would likely never come near, due to those damnable rumors. Someone would simply think it was the forgotten ghost, screaming its lament and haunting melodies.

And then, it began. It was the inevitable. Eloise knew that it was going to happen, though she tried so desperately to believe that it perhaps would not. But, the dress was torn from her body, along with her undergarments. All that remained in place was the cloak. Well that, and Gus holding her stiff to him by her still functioning arm. Another thing came into place, though. It was the lighter man's lips against her neck. When she tried to blindly kick out at him, she felt her foot connect with something. She did not know what, but it earned a hard slap to the face. It was then that she felt herself be violated. That caused her to try and scream again, but she suddenly felt a rope tie around her mouth and behind her head, gagging her and cutting off her cries as this monster raped her.

Eloise did not know how much time had passed, but suddenly a door opened from behind her and her attackers. She did not know what to expect, but she quickly found that the man behind her had been pulled away. The rope was yanked free from her mouth. She fell in a slump to the hard ground when her other attacker was ripped from her body. Eloise could not see anything that was going on. All she could do was listen. Her savior did not speak a word, but she had a feeling that he did not have anything to say to her attackers. It had to be a man, she thought. A woman couldn't take on these men. Next, she heard two thumps against the ground. She did not know what to expect next.

Disposing of the filth had been easy enough. They had provided their very own murder weapon. The rope gag had been just enough to strangle the larger of the two men. His own hands had been enough to cause the smaller of the men to fall unconscious. The Phantom had plans for this rapist. But that would have to be done later. The fallen woman on the ground before him would need more help. Still, how was he supposed to help? She would scream and run as soon as she looked in his face. For the first time since Chris-no, the singer-the singer left, he regretted not wearing the masque. And here he was, once again worrying about his appearance. Would it never end?

The woman did look up, though. She did not look right at him, he noticed. The blood about her eyes did not escape his notice either. Had she been made blind by the men? Oh, the one he had left alive would certainly pay for that. What right did these men have to harm another being? Then again, had he not just murdered another living being? That was different. He would have to dispose of the body. He could not leave a dead body on the doorstep. That would certainly not look good for the opera house. It would bring people looking for him.

His swirling thoughts were interrupted by the woman attempting to stand up. Her legs went out from under her, and she fell to the ground again. She looked about blindly. "Who's there?!" a scream ripped from her mouth before she crumpled to the floor in fits of sobs, her face hidden in her one good hand.

"I saved you," he said simply. He would need to bring her inside-and the bodies too. Someone was bound to notice. He was not going to be blamed for what had happened here. As he had told…the singer on the night of Don Juan, he had never experienced the joys of the flesh. He would never partake in them if the partner was unwilling. He might be a monster in some respects, but he would never sink as low as that. Slowly, he came to kneel beside her and reached his hand out. He would not touch her if she did not want it. "Will you come inside?"

Eloise tried to look at the person who was in front of her. He had to be in front of her, she guessed. That was where his voice had come from. Blindly, she reached out toward the voice. He had saved her. She could only hope that he too would not rape her. Her hand met with something strange and uneven. Her fingers also felt something hard, almost like bone. When she heard a sharp intake of breath, she quickly pulled her hand away only to have it come in contact with the person's hand. So, what had she just been touching? She couldn't see, so she had no way of knowing.

His face. She had touched his face, his deformed face, and she had not died or screamed. She had not rejected him. Sure, she did not know what she was in contact with, but the Phantom was about to allow himself this ever so small victory. He pulled her upwards as he stood. Again, she nearly fell and used him to support herself. He was all too aware of her exposed form. Oh, but what was he thinking? She had just been raped for God's sake! Did God exist?

Shaking his head to push away the scrambled thoughts, he led the woman inside the door. He brought her to a painting just a few paces from the doorway. A simple flip of a hidden switch turned the painting into a door. He led her inside, practically having to carry her. It seemed that her mind was going back to recent events as sobs came from her again. It was only a matter of time before she would break entirely. He hoped that she could somehow avoid that. And, he still had to move the dead body and the unconscious one.

He would have to leave her for a moment to go and retrieve the bodies before some unlucky soul was to stumble upon them. It was tedious work, and he did not want to leave the girl alone, but it was something that had to be done. For now, he could leave the dead body just inside the painting doorway, and the unconscious one could be locked away in a broom closet.

Eloise felt her savior stop and help her to sit, and then he was gone. He mentioned something about needing to take care of something, that he would return shortly, and that she should remain in this spot and not move. She had no idea where she was. The area smelt damp, and she could hear the slight crackle of a flame somewhere. So, they had to be somewhere in the opera house where it was dark. She used her good hand to feel around her. The floor was made of hard stone. Where in the opera house had floors like this? When they first entered, she was able to tell that the floor had been carpeted. Still, she had become disoriented as thoughts of what happened came to her mind. That reminder put the torture fresh in his mind. A wail came from her mouth borne from the deep pain pulsating from within her soul. She was a fallen woman. The man had saved her life, but she was now utterly worthless. Who would ever want a beast?

AN: And that is the end of chapter one. Please let me know when you think.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Here is chapter two.

xxx

The Phantom made his way back through the dark passageway where he had dropped the young woman off. The men could be dealt with later. He had no idea why he was trying to help this female. He had no responsibility to her. Why did he find the need to help her? He wasn't certain, but something was pushing him on to go back to her and not leave her to simply rot in the passageways of the opera house. That would be easy enough to do instead of getting involved. It would not be the first time that he had let someone rot in the passageway of mazes inside the opera house. No, he couldn't do that. He was not that much of a monster. The ones he had let rot had been trying to kill him. Their deaths had been out of self defense. He could not let a helpless woman die here. Perhaps he could find Antoinette or her daughter. What was the girl's name again? He remembered the girl liked to dance. Wasn't she a ballerina? Yes, that was it. Oh, yes, the daughter was called Meg. He didn't like the name. Still, one of them could certainly help the woman. Then again, he had seen neither since Don Juan. It was odd that he hadn't. Antoinette had always been something of a friend to him. Meg had always seemed to have an interest in the Opera Ghost.

The once again spiral of his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone a little further down the passageway sobbing. It had to be the woman. Who else would come here? No one else could get to this place. Well, not without dying, he thought. Hmm, but no. The singer could find her way to him. Sometimes he wished that she would. It was not something that would ever happen, though, he had come to accept. All she had left him with was a cold, empty heart.

Eloise was not sure how much time had passed since her savior had left her. Thoughts of what had just happened to her tormented her mind. Mental images had kept cropping up, never giving her a moment of peace since the man had left. When she had been with the man, she had been upset, but it had not been nearly as bad as now. When he was with her, she could at least focus on a physical presence being with her. She was alone now in some hidden passageway in an opera house far from her home, freshly raped, and newly blinded. What if the man never came back for her? The sounds of footfalls alerted her that she was not alone.

"Who's there?" she called out, trying to pull herself to her feet. She felt so weak from her recent attack, but she was not going to lay here and be killed. The footfalls came from her right, so the woman faced that way, focusing on keeping herself standing. It was no easy feat. Would it not be easier to just collapse to the floor and let whoever this was kill her?

She was standing, the Phantom observed. That seemed to be an improvement. She had to have at least some sort of strength left to be able to stand up and seemingly defend herself against whoever was coming for her. Why would she try and defend herself, though? No one else would be able to get to her in this place. Oh, but she didn't know that. He had to remind himself that she did not know everything about this opera house. How could she? This woman was not Chris-the singer. How long would it take to force himself to forget the singer? Her memory was a constant hot iron to his mind, burning him with its degrading intensity.

The person hadn't said anything. Eloise was starting to become worried. Had one of her attackers found her? What happened to the one who saved her? She didn't want to be attacked again. There was no telling what would happen this time. She could end up dead. The men could end up holding her down again and raping her again. They could both do it at the same time. She had heard a horror story of this happening to a woman. The woman had ended with child and given birth to a Devil Child. She did not want the same to happen to her. It would be a worse fate than death. "Who is there?!" she demanded again, fear and anger tight in her voice.

The man was pulled from his thoughts once again. How long had it been since he had spoken with someone again? How long was it that he was trapped alone to his thoughts? The Phantom was not entirely certain. He would need to work on that so long as this woman was with him. She would not be able to see him pondering away at each and every little thing.

Offering out his hand again, though he knew she could not see it, he replied, "It is only me."

Eloise remembered that voice. It was smooth and warm. This man had to be in some sort of rank in this French society. The man did not have the lower accent of the men who had attacked her. Those men seemed to have been from the lower set of society. Their actions clearly confirmed this. No man of noble birth would rape a woman in broad daylight. Then again, she was not entirely certain what the man's accent was. It sounded to be something entirely of his own. She had to wonder if he owned this opera house or worked in it. Perhaps he had once been a singer. But, why would he know of this back passageway? It would be something to ponder later.

For now, she took a cautious step forward. There was no way for her to see where she could possibly be going. The ground beneath her was also uneven. Her good, outstretched hand found his, however. He had led her thus far without her falling. Then again, she had been clinging to him as her mind drowned in mental anguish. It was a wonder that she had gotten this far. His hand closed carefully around her own, almost as if he were unused to this sort of contact. Surely, someone like him would have courted women previously. At the very least, he would have made business deals requiring a simple handshake. He wore what felt like leather gloves as well. He was not even in full contact with her, but he still seemed to shy away from this simple touch. Or, maybe she was just overanalyzing things. He was likely being careful with her due to the predicament he had found her in. That most terrible predicament. Her mind threatened to turn on her once again as memories sprang fresh once again. She could imagine her rapist's hands against her body.

The woman suddenly pulled away from him after only a slight moment of contact as a scream ripped from her throat. It was no longer her savior's hand in her mind's eye. It was that of the slimmer man as he pulled himself close to her and- She fell to the floor onto her back and blindly looked up at him, begging him to not rape her. It went on like that for a few moments before she became quiet, tears streaming down her face. It seemed like she had resigned herself to whatever was about to happen.

Why would she think that he would harm her? He had saved her. Hmm, but he was no stranger to the tricks that the mind was capable of conjuring. Memories must have been plaguing her newly damaged psyche. He certainly remembered how the gypsy camp's tortures had been a constant theme in his dreams and thoughts following his escape from them. He had simply gotten through the memories on his own. He had refused to ask for anyone's help in quelling the torture of his mind. Who would help a beast anyway?

Slowly, the Phantom came to kneel at the woman's side. "I will not harm you," he stated simply and once again offered his hand to her. He did not know why he did this when she was unable to see. He somehow thought that she would be able to sense it, perhaps?

The man's words pulled her out of the dark path her mind had taken her. She was back in the strange passageway again with the man who had saved her. No, helped her. If Eloise could force herself to think of it as helping rather than saving, perhaps she would not be as tormented by the memory. He had _helped_ her, and he was willing to _help_ her again.

The theme, she noticed, was that the man would offer his hand to her. It seemed odd to her, since she was unable to see him. Still, she was not about to question it. Somehow, she was becoming more aware of the space around her. And, oddly enough, she felt like she could almost see his hand. But, that was impossible, right? The larger attacker had forced the needle deep into her eyes.

Eloise reached out and took the man's hand. She found herself being helped up and led through the strange hallway once again. All she had to go by was the presence of the man beside her and their joined hands. It was strange to say, but she felt comfortable in this situation. Still, it would be nice if the man would at least introduce himself. Perhaps, if she started the conversation, he would open up.

"Hello," Eloise said quietly, looking in his direction. She had no way of knowing if he heard her or even acknowledged her. Trying to build up some courage, she continued, "My name is Eloise."

"A German in France," the Phantom replied. So, she likely had not heard anything about the Opera Ghost being from so far away. That was likely why she did not fear him.

Eloise nodded, again not knowing if he was even looking at her or merely focusing straight ahead. "I left my home with the gypsies and-" She suddenly felt his hand tighten around her own. She wished that she was able to see his face to try and figure out what he was thinking. Talking was not her strong suit. Still, this was something she would need to get used to. "Is something wrong?" Eloise questioned.

If you only knew, he thought. Memories of that time threatened to overtake his mind. It was not something he wanted to focus on. It would end up doing no good for either of them. Up until now, he had kept rather good control of his anger-aside from the murder of her attacker and kidnapping of the other. That was in her defense, though, he reasoned.

Too much thinking, he reminded himself. "No, nothing is wrong. You could say that I do not have the best of relations with the gypsies. You lived with them?"

Eloise nodded. "I was abandoned as a child. They took me in. The head gypsy, Markus, kept me safe. He always-" She felt his hand tighten again, almost painfully. It seemed that this conversation was something the man was not enjoying. It seemed to be time for a change of topic. "What is your name?"

The woman was smart, he realized. Somehow she knew that he did not want to continue on with the current conversation. It might have been the knee jerk reaction to the name of the gypsy leader that made her pick up on it. His grip had tightened around her own, as if trying to hold himself to this world and not his past. That man, Markus, was the son of the gypsy who had kept him locked up for so many years of his young life. It appeared that the son was not like his murdered father.

He was once again thinking too much. She had asked him a simple question of his name. The singer had never once asked his name, he realized. The boy had only called him Ghost or Phantom. It had been so long since anyone had asked his name. It had been so long since he had even gone by his name. No harm could come of her knowing his name. "Erik," he replied. "My name is Erik."

Eloise smiled softly. "Erik," she repeated. "I like it."

"Well, thank you for your approval," he replied without thinking. It was meant as a joke, but it came out sounding rather harsh. But, she began to laugh slightly. The sound was alien to him. He was so used to being alone. Laughter, the musical quality of hers, was not something her was used to. The simple reaction from her brought a slight smile to his face.

It was quickly becoming cold in this passageway as the pair descended further below the opera house. It likely did not help that all Eloise was wearing only her cloak. That realization made her eyes open wide. She was exposed! She pulled her hand away from her partner and quickly tried to cover herself with the cloak. It covered what was important.

Truly, his mind had not been on her state of undress. He had been thinking on what to do with the one remaining man who had attacked the woman Eloise. When she ripped her hand away, he thought that perhaps she was about to have another fit. Seeing her hurriedly covering herself did make his mind briefly focus on her current state. Here he was, the infamous Opera Ghost, walking through his secret passageways with a naked woman. Never would he have expected to find himself in such a situation. It would be all too easy to allow his mind to focus on this situation and allow low thoughts and situations to play through his mind. This Eloise was rather pretty.

NO, no, he could not and would not do that. He forced those horrid thoughts from his mind. Who was he to think of anyone in that way, with lust? He had no right. A beast did not belong with anyone of the light such as this woman. He was supposed to be helping her.

"How am I supposed to lead you without your hand?" he questioned, forcing himself to focus on his original thought pattern. The Phantom planned to bring her to his lair, fix her up, and send her on her way. That would be best for everyone.

Eloise looked to the ground and held the cloak tighter about her body. She did not want to allow her body to be exposed in such a way again. She had to wonder, however, why she had not realized the state of undress until so far along their journey. Never had she let her body be exposed to anyone in her years upon this Earth. Well, she had not until those men had-

She shook her head and forced that thought from her head. The man had asked her a question. She did not know what the solution could be. So, she started walking ahead. "You can tell me if there is something for me to watch out for," Eloise replied quietly.

Before he had the chance, however, she found herself tripping and falling forward. The woman would have landed on her face had the Phantom not come forward to catch her. One arm had snaked around her midsection while his other came across her shoulders. She was now held up in his arms, as if in a deep for some sort of dance.

He quickly steadied her on her own feet and stepped away from her. The last time he had been close to a woman like that had been after Don Juan down in the lair when the singer had held him and kissed him. The angel had kissed the beast, but it had not been for love. It had been to save herself and run away with that boy. Worse off, she had returned briefly and given him a shocking false hope that she had returned to be with him. But no, the singer had merely given him back the wedding ring. She left again, singing her love song with the boy. The pain of that night, the ripping anguish in his very soul, was quickly returning to him. He needed to get away from Eloise before he snapped. They were close enough to his lair now. All he had to do was bring her the short distance to the boat, take them across the lake, and then he could be free of her for a time. How was he supposed to lead the blind woman though? She wouldn't give him her hand.

"I'm sorry," Eloise muttered. He had pulled away from her so quickly. Something seemed to be wrong with the situation. There was an odd tension in the air. She blindly walked in the direction she thought him to be. Reaching out with her good hand, and allowing herself not to focus on her undress for the moment, she sought to find him. Her hand was met with that same uneven, bumpy feeling again. There again was the feeling of something hard, almost like bone.

A growl escaped the Phantom, and he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. "Aren't we a curious little guttersnipe? Have you too come to gawk at the Devil's Child?" His tone was harsh, loud. He did not care if he scared the woman. In one swift movement, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. She was light and easy to manage. "Why am I bothering with you?" he asked, seemingly more to himself than anything. He ignored her screams, her flailing feet, and her hand that continuously pounded against his back. He simply continued on until he came to the boat. He dumped her in unceremoniously and entered it himself to begin pushing the boat across the lake.

What had she done? Eloise wondered. One moment, he was quiet, though kind. Now, he was acting cruel. What had he meant about a Devil's Child? That was only supposed to be an old tale to scare children. She had only been trying to find him in this place she knew nothing of. What exactly was it that she had touched? If this was how he was going to react to her, with such anger, she wanted nothing to do with him. He could end up attacking her-raping her-if she did the wrong thing. But now, he was taking her across water on a boat. She had heard rumor that there was a lake under the opera house. But, she never believed rumors. For, if this rumor were true, then perhaps the one about the Phantom of the Opera was true as well. She backed as far away in the boat as possible from Erik. What if he were the Ghost? The thought scared her, and that fear brought back the memories of what happened. She broke down into sobs once more.

AN: Please review. It helps me.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Here is chapter three. Thank you for those who are reading thus far and who have reviewed.

xxx

Erik's mind was everywhere and nowhere. How odd it was that this woman was able to influence him so. Before the catastrophe that was his former angel, no one had held this much influence over his mind. Sure, the Persian and Antoinette could cause reactions from him, but it was nothing like this. In a matter of a few hours, this new woman had brought him out of his quiet home and back into the real world once again. It was going to drive him insane, he suspected.

The woman, Eloise, was in her own room in his lair now. Once they had reached the shore, she had tried to scramble away. That had ended in her successfully tripping, hitting her head, and being knocked unconscious. This had brought Erik out from his previous angry musings and forced him to once again help her. And, after making sure that she was not somehow dead, he brought her into one of the rooms that had not been destroyed by those who had hunted him down.

Now, however, the Phantom had made his way back to the main level of the opera house. He had unfinished business to attend to in the name of a rapist. The Opera Ghost planned to make the man suffer for what he had done to Eloise. No, but Erik would not go as far as to call the attacker a man. Any foul creature could rape a woman. It took a man to court a woman and eventually commence in love making. Did that mean he was less of a man? He had never enjoyed that experience.

The thought was pushed from his mind as he approached the cleaning closet where the attacker had been dumped earlier. Someone was banging against the locked door and shouting. It would do him no good. There was no one here to hear him. Only the floorboards and abandoned halls remained. That, and one very vindictive Opera Ghost.

Banging on the door finally seemed to work, the attacker realized. The door was suddenly flung open and light streamed in. He was about to thank the person who helped him when he caught sight of the man's grotesque features. "What the hell are you supposed to be?" he questioned as he openly gaped at the deformed face.

"Some kind of monster, I suppose," Erik answered as he pulled the attacker out of the closet and shoved him roughly against the wall. "It would be all too easy to kill you," the Phantom continued as he pulled a small knife from his pocket and lightly drew patterns across the attacker's face, careful not to cause any harm just yet. "Hmm, still, I think that we should have a spot of fun first. You did, after all, get to have your fun as you raped a woman in broad daylight." That reminder brought anger and adrenaline to his blood. He forced the attacker to the ground while keeping his knee in his opponent's chest and knife to his throat.

"I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm not letting some deformed freak-" the attacker began. He was quickly cut off when the knife was forced into his mouth. The blade had cut his tongue ever so slightly, but the pain that it caused was great.

"I am not the type to enjoy in torture unless it is well deserved," the Phantom stated as he glared down at the one below him. "I suggest that you watch your tongue, lest you lose it." He pulled the knife free from the man's mouth, but he kept it close to his opponent's throat.

If the freak wanted a fight, it was a fight that he would get. The attacker still had full use of his arms. It was always a wonder to him how opponents would forget that their target had full control of their limbs, even in dire situations. Of course, the woman he had had his way with did not, but that was an entire different story. She was outnumbered and against better opponents.

Without another thought, he swung his fist into the deformed side of this freak that was attacking him. He felt the distinctive wet snap of something breaking or crushing under his fist. And, this seemed to do the trick to distract the freak. He was able to maneuver enough to force the freak off of him. He got to his feet and ran toward an open doorway. It was odd to him that the doorway was a seemingly painted picture, but he was not about to question his escape route. He didn't have time.

After a moment of blinding pain, Erik's vision came back into focus. The attack to his face had not been something he counted for. How stupid he was not to foresee that. Still, he could not focus on the pain in his head at the moment. He had to go after and dispose of this rapist before he had the chance to harm the woman Eloise again. Still, it was not as if he would be able to find the lair and cross the lake before Erik would get to him.

As luck would have it, the rapist stumbled into the mirrored room. With Erik close behind, the attacker had quickly shut the door behind him. To his dismay, however, he found the room to be blindingly hot and that the door he closed had no door handle. He was completely trapped in a room full of mirrors that used the light from above to burn its victims. The attacker began screaming, yelling to be let out and that his opponent should fight him like a man.

Erik paused at the doorway, considering releasing the man. He decided, after a moment, to simply let the rapist bake for a while in this lovely room. At the very least his time in Persia and craftsmanship had paid off for something. Eloise's attacker would not be able to escape and/or harm her, and he would die a most slow and painful death in the mirrored room. So, without another word to the desperate man on the other side of the door, the Phantom made his way to his lair.

xxx

Eloise opened her eyes, or at least she thought she did. Everything was so dark. She had somehow gone blind in her sleep! No, that wasn't it. Her slowly waking mind brought back the memories of what had happened to her. She did not know where she was now, but it felt like she was lying in a bed. She also found that she had been dressed in a simple gown. It was clear, from what she could feel, that the person who had dressed her had no experience in dressing women and had dressed her quickly. But, why would someone dress her?

Then she remembered Erik. She had been brought across a lake and then she had tried to run away from the man pushing the boat through the lake. When she tried to run, she remembered falling and feeling a sharp pain in her head before blacking out. Erik must have brought her to this room and dressed her. Had he done more than just dress her? Fear began to eat at her mind, thinking that he too had likely taken advantage of her. Sobs sprang forth from her again. When she heard the door to her room open and footfalls follow shortly afterward, her sobbing grew harder.

"Don't hurt me," she begged the person who had entered the room. The person said nothing, which only made her mind reel further out of control. "Don't rape me! I'd rather die! Kill me!" The idea of death to escape her anguish was suddenly very appealing. She tried to force herself to get out of the bed and stand on her feet. She managed to fall to the ground. Eloise would not let that stop her from having the release from her mental and physical torment. She crawled forward and ignored the searing pain in her useless arm. "Kill me! You can rape me after. There will be no evidence and no one fighting you."

Erik was completely taken aback by how she was reacting to him. No one could harm her in this place. He had to make her understand that somehow. It was clear that her mind was once again playing tricks on her. He remembered all too well how badly his own mind had played with him shortly following his escape from the gypsies. "I will not harm you," he stated as he reached his hand out to her.

It was him; it was the man who had attacked her. She screamed in fright and tried to quickly back away from the person. Eloise tried to cover herself using her good arm. Maybe her attacker would just go away. Or maybe Erik would come save her. No, he would only hurt her too. She was quickly becoming hysterical and it was sapping her breath from her lungs.

The slow approach was clearly going nowhere, Erik realized. He came to her side and knelt before her while taking her good hand in his own. He suspected that her other arm was merely dislocated rather than totally broken. Once he calmed her down, he would be able to examine her.

When her cries and begging only continued, the Phantom sighed and brought her hand up to his marred face. Perhaps that would trigger some sort of memory in her mind. It did seem to calm her, though the touch did bring him pain from the recent attack. Still, the distraction seemed to be working as her breathing slowed and her cries began to soften.

"No more talk of darkness," he whispered to her. "Forget your wide-eyed fears. You're safe. No one can harm you. My words will-" He stopped short, stopped dead, when he realized the road that he was quickly going down. Why had those words come to his mind? _Lead me. Save me from my solitude. Love me, that's all I ask of , _the memory mocked him. He remembered being unmasked in front of the entire opera house. He remembered the total embarrassment and her rejection.

Eloise had come to realize it was Erik when her hand met the odd feeling again. She had no way of knowing what it could be. The words he said to her had calmed her. It was his sudden stop, the way that he pulled her hand away from the odd feeling, and his now tight grip on her hand that anchored her back to the present. "I'm sorry," she muttered. The tight grip on her hand seemed to lessen ever so slightly, but it remained in place. It took her a moment to realize that she was clinging to his hand with a firm grip as well. It kept her anchored and kept her mind from racing.

"Bad memories have a way of sticking with us," Erik replied as scenes from his downfall as the Phantom of the Opera played through her mind. He had been such a fool to believe that anyone could ever love a beast like him. Who could ever love only half a man?

He could not focus on that for the moment. His own personal problems were not the most important at the moment. The woman was. Eloise was her name, he reminded himself. He helped her up to her feet and then began to examine her harmed arm.

His touch was light, careful. Even so, it still caused her pain. Eloise tried her best to keep her mouth shut as he took hold of her damaged arm and tried to work the joint. The last thing she needed to do was start screaming again. She had done enough of that in his home. But, when he suddenly pulled her arm outwards and then gave it a firm push forward, she could not help but cry out.

"It's fixed now," Erik stated as he took a step back from her. He watched as she very slowly tried to move the arm about again. A smile came to the woman's lips when she realized that her arm was working as it should be. "Your arm was dislocated," he continued. "Putting the joint back in place can be done easily enough. It causes some pain, though. You will need to rest it to ensure that it heals properly and that no further damage is done."

"Thank you," Eloise replied as she looked down at her feet. How was she supposed to thank him from rescuing her earlier today? A simple 'thank you' would not suffice. It was barely enough for fixing her arm just now. For the time being, she would need to wait to find a way to thank him. For now, she settled on shuffling forward in the direction of his voice. When her outstretched hands found Erik, Eloise pushed her arms under his and hugged him. Oddly enough, she felt comfortable doing this. It brought back no bad memories for her.

To have another woman's arms around him, embracing him, was something that Erik thought her would never again experience. He did not know why she was doing it either. He did not know how to react either. His own arms hung stiff at his sides. Why was she hugging him? Would she react badly if he put his own arms around her?

Eloise pulled away from Erik and looked upwards. It was clear that he was taller than her. "I'm sorry," she said, rather confused by his stiff reaction. "I just wanted-I don't know. How am I supposed to thank you for what you've done for me? A hug doesn't truly seem like much, does it?"

"There is no need to thank me," Erik replied. This woman continued to surprise him. If he was not careful, he would find himself caring for her. The last time he had come to care for a woman, he had ended up falling in love with her. Love had only destroyed him. It was not something he wanted to experience again. Perhaps they could be friends. "You should try and rest," he continued. The sleep might help ease her pain.

Sighing, she turned and blindly found her way to the bed. She managed to trip once again, but the woman managed to land face-first on her bed.

"Do try not to harm yourself," Erik observed, trying his best not to laugh. He truly was horrible to laugh at the blind woman, but it was a laughable situation. When she turned to face him and attempt to glare, he rolled his eyes. "If looks could kill, I would find myself dead." Hmm, that would mean that he would have died at childbirth when his mother first looked at him. That certainly was a sobering, depressing thought. So much for the moment of happiness he was having. "Call for me if you require anything." He did not wait for an answer as he left the room.

Eloise groaned and flopped her face back into the plush pillow on her bed. This Erik was a very confusing man. One moment he was acting caring and the next he was cold. Another moment he seemed to be joking and then turned serious. How was she ever supposed to figure him out? He was the only one that knew she was in this opera house. He was the only one who knew where they were. She had no way of escaping wherever it was that he had taken her. Did that mean that she was trapped here? Yes. No? He would likely lead her out if she asked, right? And, who was he?

For now, though, Eloise would leave her thoughts for later. Her day had been utterly exhausting. Even the time spent unconscious didn't seem to have helped her. The heaviness of sleep quickly began to pull at her mind. She curled into the bed and pulled the blanket over herself. A familiar scent came to her as she realized the blanket was her own. Erik must have rescued it somehow. A smile settled on her face while sleep slowly took her to the dream world. She had another thing to thank him for.

AN: This is a shorter chapter. Please, let me know what you think. The plot will begin to move faster in the next chapters to come.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Hello readers. Here is the next chapter. Did anyone catch the Metallica reference in the last chapter? Lol. Please review.

xxx

Eloise woke up sometime later to the sound of disjointed music. She sat up from the warm bed and stretched, trying to wake herself. She looked toward the direction of the sound and was actually able to see the blurry outline of light coming from under the closed door. That was something she did not expect. It seemed that her vision was slowly coming back. Yes, it her vision was that of swimming underwater in a murky lake and attempting to see in front of oneself, but it was something. Anything was better than living in the dark.

Still, it was the music that held her attention more than her slowly returning sight. The notes, off putting as they were, drew her in-like a moth to the flame. Music had always been something she valued in life, though she had never pursued learning an instrument or how to sing. There simply had not been the time to learn such a skill in the gypsy camp. She had had other responsibilities there like cooking.

Carefully, she got up from the bed and slowly approached the sliver of light coming from the doorway. Eloise opened the door and slowly made her way toward the sound of the music. It was comforting to know that she had not been locked in this room. It appeared that she was not a total prisoner here. Still, she did not know how to leave here, and with her still limited vision, it was likely that she would not be able to leave unless Erik helped her. For now, she would settle on finding the maker of the music and worry about leaving this place later.

xxx

_Music had made her life, and music had entrapped her soul. Now, she was not allowed to have any part of that world. It was, according to her husband, not a proper for her to associate with that profession. It was barely acceptable for her to have it in her past. But, as they both knew, it was impossible to hide what had happened to her since she was involved with _him_. She had to admit that she missed him. _He _had been there for her since her father died. It was by a cruel trick of fate that they had been separated. It was a cruel fate and a twisted love. There was no other way for the situation to have turned out as it did. _He _had allowed her to go and had not tried to force her to stay when she briefly returned to him. All he had done was confess his love. It had broken her heart to leave the man. _

_That was why the woman had gone in search of _him_, the man who once had inspired her voice. She had to make things right by him. She had to see him once again and know if he was alright. The mental anguish she lived with everyday was slowly driving her mad. The guilt over her actions and how she had treated him were eating her away. She was becoming but a shadow of her old self. _

_She had left her new home late in the night. Her husband was out on some sort of business trip. The other family members had been deep asleep. No one noticed her leave. They would notice that she would be gone in the morning. They would not know, however, that she had been taken while making her way to her destination. They would not know that she would be made a member of the camp. _

xxx

Music had always been an integral part of his life. Since the singer had left him, however, it was difficult for Erik to as much as look at a sheet of music let alone play. Now, though, he found that he wanted to play something. Well, that had been some hours ago when the thought to play had entered his mind. Nothing was able to come to him, only disjointed melodies and harmonies. There was no dynamic contrast, no off beats. There was no cut time, no compound time signature. No, not even a simple time signature melody would come to him. Had the singer taken the music with her when she had left? Could he not even have his music? Was this his further punishment for him, the monster, loving an angel?

The sound of a door opening and something getting knocked over brought the Opera Ghost out of his musings. Looking toward the doorway, he found the woman that he had rescued. Hmm, he still had that other man to take care of. He would need to do that later. For, right now, he had to wonder how Eloise had found her way to the music room without harming herself. The path from her room to here was anything but clear. The destruction wrought by those who wanted him dead still littered his lair. He would need to clean that up if Eloise was to remain here for any length of time.

Eloise had quickly picked up the knocked over music stand. Her vision had slowly been improving as she made her way toward the music. It was far from perfect, but she could see enough to be able to walk on her own. The notes had stopped when she entered the room. With the stand back in place, she looked up toward the shape of a man sitting by the organ. His features were still fuzzy to her, but she could make out that he was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt. His hair was dark, seemingly black. Something white covered half of his face.

"Hi," she greeted, sounding absolutely brilliant. She took a few cautious steps forward, trying to avoid the items discarded on the floor. It looked like balled up paper, but it was difficult for her to tell. Stopping a few paces behind him, she continued, "My vision is coming back. Everything is fuzzy. It's as if you have gone swimming in the salty sea and opened your eyes too much while underwater. Do you know what I mean?"

Odd, he thought. Erik did not think that she would ever have her vision return to her. He did not know how her eyes could heal themselves and restore her vision. It was lucky that he had decided to put the infamous masque back in place. He did not want to hear her scream if she were to see his deformed face. It was not something he could deal with, more rejection.

"No," he finally answered. "I have not swum in the ocean." Well, he didn't remember swimming. There was a distant memory of being somewhere with a large pool of water with his mother. It wasn't something he liked to try and remember. All he remembered of the dim memory was water attempting to force its way into his lungs. "Did I wake you?"

"I heard notes being played," Eloise answered. She took a few steps forward and peered over his shoulder to look at the white and black keys of the organ. She had always wanted to run her fingers over the keys of this type of instrument ever since she had been a child. Her home town in Germany boasted some of the largest organs in Europe. "Will you play something?" she asked, smiling and looking at him. She wished that she could see Erik's face better. Everything was still blurry to her.

The music has been robbed from me, he thought in reply. How was he supposed to tell her that? She had heard him playing. He had an organ in his home. She would expect him to know how to play the instrument. He could at least try something.

Eloise watched as Erik turned away from her and slowly brought her hands to the instrument. With her fuzzy vision, she watched as his fingers drifted over the keys. It seemed like he was trying to find somewhere to start. She certainly didn't expect him to compose something. "Any old tune will do," Eloise commented.

That irked him. No one told him how to play. He moved over on the bench and patted the open space beside him. "Then teach the maestro how to play," he replied, the annoyance clear in his voice. She tried to protest, but he insisted, "No, please. Play any 'tune' for me. Consider it your way of thanking me from saving you from those men."

There was his ever-changing attitude again. He certainly could be cruel. With a resigned sigh, she sat beside him. The best she would be able to do was plink away at some notes. She set her fingers on the keys and experimentally pushed down some of the keys. Even to her untrained ear, Eloise could tell that the organ was in excellent condition.

Erik watched quietly as she began pushing keys down on the instrument. At first the notes made little sense as they were completely random. After a few moments, however, Eloise began playing a few notes that sounded rather nice to him. With the passing moments, the composing side of his mind began to go to work. There was a melody in his head again. There was music. Somehow, the girl had pulled music out of his mind!

Eloise stopped with a grunt of annoyance. "I do not know how to play music. I have never-"

His hands quickly came to the instrument and his fingers began dancing across the keys, making music he had never heard before. "Oh, but you do," he replied, unable to hide his excitement. "All it takes is a little work. Your basic melody, the simple two-four time signature, and the key of F-sharp is all there. It is all here waiting to be brought out and freed. You do have music in you, as I once did."

He stopped playing and looked around for some paper to score the new music upon. He turned toward her and realized how closely they were sitting to one another. He quickly got up and stood a few paces away. He remembered the singer pulling his masque away from him when he had been playing at the organ after the Music of the Night. Erik refused to have a repeat of that event. He refused to let his rediscovery of music be damaged by that.

"What's wrong?" Eloise questioned. He was acting strange again. She found herself at a loss for his odd behavior. He had just been so warm about his music. Now, he had pulled away and gone cold. The rumors about this music hall had said that the infamous Phantom was unpredictable. Eloise had never seen another man behave this way-aside from the ones who went mad in the gypsy camp. Could it be that Erik was the Phantom? She wanted to know, but how was she to ask that?

"I need blank sheet music," Erik replied. It was not a total lie. He did want to score his new music, but something else was once again plaguing his mind. Her partial blindness had made him too comfortable with her. She had not said a word about the masque. He had foolishly thought that she just accepted it and by extension could accept him. But no, she just couldn't see it. As soon as her vision fully returned, she would likely ask about it and then reject him like all the others. Right now, though, he just wanted to get the blank sheet music. There was some on the stand before her.

Eloise remembered this as well and turned back to retrieve it for him just as he began moving forward for it. The two managed to collide, her foot tripping him. In trying to prevent the fall, the former Phantom reached out to try and steady himself. He successfully managed to grab the woman and pull her down with him. He was now on his back with her on top of him.

Erik had never been in such a situation. Never had he had a woman lying atop him. It was something that he knew couples did when making love. He would be lying to himself if he did not admit that he wished he could find himself in this position with a wife. But Eloise was not his wife, so this situation was completely inappropriate. So, why was it that he was not moving? All he could do was stare into her face, his grip still on her shoulder from pulling her down.

Memories quickly came back to the woman. She expected at any time to feel herself be violated once more. Her blurry vision did not help the case. The blurred image of the man below her suddenly reminded her of the one who had attacked her, and soon he became the one who had attacked her. He was also holding her in place. Her breathing was quickly becoming short as panic started to set in.

Her sudden crying and begging not to be harmed again snapped Erik out of whatever trance he found himself in. He quickly sat up, helping her along with him. Her crying did not stop as she followed her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. There had to be some way to snap her out of this attack.

"Eloise," he stated, trying to sound firm. "I am not that man." He watched as her fearful eyes turned to him. She was clearly still upset and needed something to distract her from the dark place that her mind was taking her. He offered his hand to her and was surprised when she gave it to him. This gentle touch seemed to be calming her. "I am Erik; I saved you, remember?" he reminded her.

The spell that her mind shad set napped. She was once again in the music room with Erik, the one who saved her and might or might not be the Phantom of the Opera. How long would she have to suffer these mental attacks? Would this go on forever? Maybe if she could learn to be comfortable with Erik, her mind would no longer associate him with her attacker. "I'm sorry," she muttered as she pulled her hand away from him. She let her hands rest in her lap.

Why would she apologize? he thought. Eloise had done nothing wrong. He was more confused when she slunk her way to sit beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. When she did not begin reacting poorly, he relaxed slightly. No woman had ever sought out his touch for comfort before. The singer had sought out his voice. But, she had kissed him. Was that seeking his touch? No, no, he could not go down that path again. There was no hope that she would ever return to him. She had married the boy. "Are you alright?" he questioned, not looking at her. The question was more to distract himself from his raging thoughts than anything.

"Who knows?" Eloise responded, just staring ahead at blurry nothingness. "Maybe the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera, will come and take me away. That would be better than living with this constant mental torment. He could kill me, and everything would be better."

Even she thought of the Opera Ghost, thought him, as a monster. He did not simply kill anyone that he ran into. How had she come to think that? Rumors seemed to have made him out to be even worse than he truly was. "I would," he started, but then caught himself. She did not know he was the Phantom. He could keep it that way. If the secret remained, she would not fear him and run away. He began again, "I would venture to think that-"

He was interrupted by the door suddenly bursting open. No one else was in his lair. The Persian would not enter in such a matter. Antoinette would at least knock. Little Meg did not know her way down to his lair. As such, Erik was quickly on his feet and facing the intruder. He was met with a person of the past that he very much wanted to forget.

"Viscount De Chagny," Erik greeted with a bow. "To what do I owe the honor of a visit?" The question came out dripping with venom. Could the boy and that old life never leave him be? Could it never end? He had not bothered the boy or Christine. He had done nothing to them.

"Where is she, Phantom?" Raoul shouted, anger clear in his voice. "What have you done with her?"

"Lost your wife already, have we? That is such a pity," Erik replied, finding it all too easy to insult the foolish boy. He found it all too easy to fit back into his old role of the viscount's enemy.

Eloise was surprised to see someone come bursting into this place. Apparently, it was not as inescapable as she originally thought. But, the other man had called Erik the- She stared up at the man from her sitting position. The white covering half of his face…it was the infamous Phantom's masque. Even with her limited vision, that had to be what it was. "You are the Phantom of the Opera," she whispered, the fears in her voice making it sound somehow musical.

Erik looked down at Eloise, having forgotten that she was here. She knew now. De Chagny had ruined things for him once again, if the fear in her eyes was anything to go by.

"Where is Christine?" Raoul demanded as he brought a pistol out and aimed it at the monster.

Eloise was able to make out the outline of the weapon that the other man was holding. Adrenaline surged into her, and she found herself on her feet and in front of Erik. Her vision suddenly snapped into focus. She did not know how it happened, but she suspected it was the adrenaline spike-and maybe some sort of black magic. "You can't hurt him!" she cried, keeping herself firmly in place.

Raoul laughed. "You're letting a little woman fight your battles? Is she your whore, Phantom?" He turned his attention to the female. "You bed the monster. Have you seen his face?"

Technically, she had. Her vision had been gone at that point, but, yes, she had in fact. "Yes," she replied. She felt the need to prove it in front of this Raoul character. "I am not his whore," she continued as she turned to face the Opera Ghost. She prayed to God that he would not kill her for what she was about to do. The rumors could not be as bad as the real thing.

Eloise removed the masque to have her first view of the Phantom's face. She could not help the quiet gasp of horror that escaped her. She swallowed her scream of terror by forcing her lips on his.

xxx

AN: And, that is the end of the chapter. Please review. It helps me.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Here is the next chapter.

xxx

Once again his masque had been taken away from him. Could no one leave it in place? And, once again, Erik found himself being kissed by a woman. Was a forced situation the only way he would ever experience this? At the very least she hadn't screamed when looking at his face. Then again, her vision wasn't all that good, though she seemed to have focused on his eyes for a moment.

Carefully, he brought his hands to either side of her waist. With the viscount watching and thinking that she was something to him, he could not very well act like they had never done this before. He allowed his emotions to take hold for just a brief moment to kiss her back. It was an exquisite feeling, but he knew that it could not last. He pulled away from her, still resting his hands on her waist. There was fear in her eyes, likely mental images tormenting her once again. Another panic attack was the last thing that either one of them needed. The boy was watching them. Were she to break down, Raoul would have all the proof he needed that Eloise was only his- God no, he could not have that. He would not have the fop thinking of Eloise in such a negative manner.

Erik took her left hand in his and pressed a ring into her hand. "I am your Erik," he whispered. The fear in her eyes seemed to calm somewhat, though she seemed apprehensive. He couldn't blame her. She had just found out that he was the former Phantom of the Opera. He brought his other hand up to lightly stroke her face. "I will never harm you," he continued, hoping that she could believe him.

Eloise took a step away from him and looked at the ring in her hand. She didn't know what to say to him. He was supposed to be the thing of nightmares-the feared Opera Ghost that would snatch you up if you were not careful. His gentle touches, however, made her think different. He was but a man with a deformed face. Looking up at him again, she found that it was not all that bad.

She brought her hand up slowly to that side of his face. When she made contact with it, she heard him take a quick intake of air, as if preparing for what was to come next. Eloise recognized the contours of his face, however. It was what she had touched before. She smiled slightly, trying to ease the troubled emotions she could see in his mismatched eyes. "I know you won't," she quietly answered.

Somehow, she knew what his plan had to be. Putting the ring in place on her finger, Eloise turned to face the other man in the room. She noted that he had lowered the pistol and was staring at her and Erik in shock. "Do you need more proof?" she questioned.

"I could still kill you," Raoul replied. "Your beast did something with my wife. Why shouldn't I take you away like he did? She was never the same after coming down to this Hell hole."

Erik was not about to have the boy threatening Eloise. She had been through enough in the short time that she came here. And, the way she had acted just now made him think that perhaps she cared for him in some way. He slowly made his way toward the viscount. The fear that came into the boy's eyes was all too perfect. He was easily able to pull the weapon from the other man's hand.

He looked at the pistol in his hand and then back at the viscount, cocking his head slightly to the side. "And I could easily kill you," Erik stated, sounding far too calm. Bringing the weapon up, he aimed it at the viscount for a brief moment before aiming away to empty the rounds into the wall before tossing it away. "Now, why are you here, de Chagny?" he questioned tiredly. This whole situation was getting out of hand. The past had reared its ugly head and now Eloise was pretending to be something to him. "Your Christine is not here. The only woman here-"

"Your whore?" Raoul supplied, trying to save some face in front of the Opera Ghost.

Eloise came up to the two and slapped the viscount hard across the face. The look of shock from the man and surprise from Erik was precious. "I am no one's whore," Eloise stated, doing her best to force the thought of her rape out of her mind. She held up her hand to show Raoul the ring in case he had not noticed it before. "Do you need more proof than a wedding band?"

"A wife?" Raoul questioned, looking from the woman to the Phantom. Despite the plain outfit the girl wore-a simple green dress, she was somewhat pretty. But, how had the deformed freak found a woman who would be willing to wed him? She seemed happy. She was able to look at the deformed face without running, screaming. Then again, it was easy to get used to it after a while. He sighed and walked away from the two to sit at the music bench. "Christine has gone missing," he stated after a moment, running a hand through his hair. "I thought she would come here."

"Why would she do that?" Erik questioned. It was odd to be having a simple conversation with the viscount. Previously, any conversation between them had been arguing.

Raoul shrugged. "You took care of her during her time here. You crafted her voice. After leaving this dreadful place, I did not want her singing any longer. It isn't right for a viscount's wife to be in such a profession. After our wedding night, she became more and more distant."

So, he had robbed her of the music. It had always been a part of her life. How could de Chagny think that she would be able to live without it? The boy had never been that bright. "She is not here," Erik repeated. "It would be best if you were to go on your way."

"You loved her," Raoul protested. "How can you not care that she is gone?" It astounded him that the Phantom would so easily wave off the disappearance of Christine. She had once been everything to him. He had been willing to put his life on the line during Don Juan to reveal himself to her and ask her to go away with him and love him. How could he not care now? Even if this new woman was his wife, there was still a connection. There had to be. How was he supposed to find his wife without help? His family could never know that his wife left him. The press would have a field day if they found out. His name would be forever ruined.

Eloise looked from the man sitting at the organ bench-which seemed totally out of place for some reason-and then to Erik. It appeared that the rumors were true. The Opera Ghost was said to have fallen in love with the soprano star, Christine Daae. Another suitor had then appeared in her life. Fighting and death had ensued, and the Ghost had been revealed to be nothing but a man. The Ghost had crafted a work, Don Juan Triumphant. The show ended in disaster, but then Christine and her suitor had reappeared, and the Phantom was never heard from again. This Raoul person was confirming the rumors. Perhaps it would be best for her to listen to some rumors in the future. But, if Erik was in love with her, why was he not reacting to the news of the woman being missing?

"I have divorced myself from the situation," Erik supplied. "When you left with her, it was my understanding that that was the end of the story. In time, I came to accept it and began trying to move on with my life. Eloise," he gestured to her, "is proof of that. She has brought the music back into my life." It wasn't a total lie. They had only just met, but she had managed to bring a melody into his mind. Hmm, would he ever have the chance to score it? Still, he was not in love with her nor her with him. He would not even venture to go as far as calling them friends. But, then again, she had stood by his side when de Chagny showed up. Perhaps there was something there between them. But, a beauty could never love a beast.

"But what about Christine?" Raoul demanded. "You can at least call her your friend. Aren't friends supposed to care about one another?"

"Oh, I can? Well, thank you for your permission, viscount. You call her my friend, but she never sought me out after leaving with you, leaving me with my broken soul and taking the music with her. She showed no compassion or friendship to me," Erik replied, emotions tinting his sentence. This was quickly growing tiring. He wanted this fop out of his home. He did not want this part of his old life to be back. He retrieved the forgotten masque from the floor and put it back in place. He did not like being exposed in from of his once enemy. There was something off putting about it.

"What would you have him do?" Eloise questioned, surprising Raoul. She had been so quiet up to this point. She took a step closer to Erik and put her hand in his. She noted how tight his grip was on her hand. This whole situation was not good for him. It was quickly becoming clear that he had suffered greatly at the hands of Christine and Raoul. Perhaps that was why Fate had brought the two of them together, to heal one another's wounds.

Raoul hated to admit this. He hated what he had to do. He looked from the woman and then to the Phantom. He stood up and paced back and forth in front of the pipe organ for a moment. He must have appeared completely mad to the two of them. With a resigned sigh, he turned to face the pair. "I need your help."

xxx

AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is shorter than normal.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Here is the next chapter. Thank you to those of you who have followed this story.

xxx

"You come here and threaten not only myself but Eloise," Erik stated, a look that could kill present in his eyes, "and now you are bold enough to ask for my help? Who do you think you are?" Perhaps the viscount had lost his mind. The fop hated him. Why would he come to his enemy of all people to ask for help finding the singer?

Raoul sighed and picked a piece of lint absentmindedly from his pants. He felt so low coming to the Phantom for help. The problem was that he needed things to remain discreet. Hiring someone to find his wife could end in disaster. People could not be trusted. Anyone could be paid off to tell their secrets if the price was right. So, what was it that he was willing to trust the Opera Ghost to keep his mouth shut? It probably had something to do with the fact that the Phantom was trying to stay out of society's view. Most people thought him dead or gone.

"I understand that my greeting was less than ideal," the viscount began. He noticed the woman-Eloise was her name-fix him with an annoyed look. The Phantom remained indifferent, seeming to simply wait to see what would be said. "My family believes that Christine and I have gone on a second honeymoon."

"What good does that do?" Eloise questioned, somewhat confused. Erik had called Raoul a viscount. Clearly, this man had wealth and power. Why would he not use it to help in finding his wife?

Erik crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't want them knowing that you lost your wife," he stated as he began to understand what was going on. "You want me to find Christine. You don't want your precious name to be the talk of slander in the press."

The Phantom sure was perceptive; Raoul would give him that. He had not even had to continue in his explanation before the Ghost understood what was going on. "So, you will help me?"

"No," Erik answered simply. He was not going to become involved in that world again. He was not about to allow Christine into his life, into his heart, once more only for the boy to end up taking her away again. He had accepted that she would not come back to him. Erik did not want to go on a search for the woman. There was no way of knowing where she was. Without another word, he turned from the fop and left the room.

Raoul was surprised by the reaction. He had expected the Phantom to be at least willing to help him-or at the very least to help Christine. It really did seem like he had moved on. There had to be some way to convince him, though. Raoul needed help. Perhaps the Phantom's wife could help?

"He used to love her," he stated, looking at the woman for help. He stood up from his spot and came to stand in front of Eloise. It was odd, he observed, when she took a quick step back from him. Why would she react that way? He did not plan to harm her. "Can you talk to him?"

Eloise did not know how she had come to be in this situation. Why had Fate decided that she needed to be the third party in this situation? All she had wanted was somewhere to stay and to explore the opera house a little bit. That decision had led her to being raped, temporarily blinded, rescued by the Phantom of the Opera, pseudo-engaged to the Phantom, and playing a third party in a conflict that she knew very little of. Still, from what she was able to observe, it seemed like Erik would only suffer more emotional trauma were he to help in this endeavor. She had not known him long, but it was clear that certain things caused bad memories for him. In the brief time that Raoul had been here, she had observed Erik go from his normal demeanor-which she was still trying to figure out-to angered and aggravated.

"What do you want me to say to him?" Eloise returned. "Am I supposed to tell him to go after the woman he once loved-that he risked everything for-" if the rumors were true "just so you can take her away from him again?"

Raoul sighed in annoyance. "What would it matter if I take her away again? You are his wife now. You are able to look at his grotesque face without fear. He lets you take his masque off willingly. He loves you now, not her."

"You're going to insult him?" she questioned, dumbstruck by his attitude. "You truly are in the worse state of manhood to act in such a way. It would be best if you leave this place." Eloise turned away from the vile man and made to leave the room. She was surprised, then, when the man grabbed her from behind and held a small blade to her throat. The memories of her attack were quickly coming back.

He held the woman close to him allowing her no way of escape. Then again, she was not struggling to get free. She had become stiff in his arms. Raoul did not know what had caused such a reaction, but it was working to his advantage. He could take Eloise away some place. The Phantom would have to come searching. So long as she kept quiet now, his plan would work perfectly.

"You're going to come with me now," Raoul whispered into her ear. "You're going to stay quiet and we'll leave this place. Don't worry. I'm certain your beast will come for you." He began pushing her towards the door, ignoring her quiet tears. He could not focus on her reaction now. He needed to play the villain to get the Opera Ghost to help him find Christine.

They had not gone far from the music room yet. Currently, they were in one of the lair's hallways. Eloise had to guess that the man was leading her to the exit. It seemed like he had been here before, so he likely knew his way around. But, maybe he was taking her to one of the rooms first so he could have his way with her. Then he would kill her. She had to stifle a cry of fear, not wanting him to kill her.

xxx

Erik had left the room in a huff, heading towards the reading room. Why, how, could the boy come to his lair and ask this of him? He had loved Christine enough to allow her to leave with the fop so that she could be free. She was a bird, and the birds were meant to fly over the rainbow, not remain caged. Christine would not have been happy with him. He had allowed her to leave, and now she was missing. The boy had not been able to take care of her.

Surely, Christine would be found. Where could she have gone on her own? It was not likely that anyone would have taken her. She was known throughout society. No one would attack her. Well, unless they wanted to hold her for ransom. If that were the case, though, something would have been heard about her by now. Something was not adding up here.

The former Phantom looked around the room to the various books. He had read most of them. He had gathered them in his travels, for reading was something that he had always enjoyed. It let him forget for a while who he-what he was. The answer to what had happened to Christine certainly was not in this room, but it would prove a good enough distraction for the moment. He needed to escape his former life and the memories it caused for just a little while. So, why was it that he felt compelled to try and save his former Angel?

"Damn it all," he cursed and left the room behind. Christine had been too much a part of his life to leave her to her Fate. From personal experience, he knew that Fate was a most cruel mistress. Sadly, though he would like to, he could not allow the former opera star to suffer. For now, he would go back to the music room and the fop to see how he could help.

In making his way back to his music room, he was met with a sight that disturbed him. De Chagny was pushing Eloise along, a blade at her throat. It appeared that his former enemy was planning on taking Eloise away. Why was it that Fate could not allow him to have anything? The cruel mistress would even take away this new woman in his life. No, he could not have that. He still was not certain what she was to him, but he did not want her to be stolen from him. The years of stalking the opera house worked to his advantage. No one ever heard him unless he wanted it to be so.

Raoul did not hear him either, not until it was much too late. De Chagny did not hear the Phantom until he was violently pulled away from the woman and shoved up against the wall. It appeared that his plan had fallen through. All he could see now were the angry eyes of the Phantom of the Opera glaring at him. His focus was not on that, however, but that of the vice-like grip on his throat.

"You would take her away from me?" the Phantom growled, wanting nothing more than to kill this man here and now. Still, that would not be the right thing to do in front of Eloise-who was now on her knees, crying silently. He really had to find a way to help her push back those bad memories. There was also the fact that Christine would also want her husband to remain alive, sadly.

He groaned in annoyance and shoved the other man away from himself. As much as he wanted to, he could not allow himself to murder this man. Hmm, he wondered if Eloise's attacker had died yet in the mirrored room. He would need to check on that later. For now, he settled on checking Eloise for any damage. The fear in her eyes only made him all the more enraged. "I could kill you," the former Phantom spat at De Chagny as he helped Eloise to her feet. "Why would you think that I would help you by taking her away from me?"

Truly, it had not been that good of a plan, Raoul realized. He had forgotten how the Phantom could react to certain situations. He had forgotten that the Opera Ghost could very easily overpower him. This had only served to likely make his case for saving Christine all the worse. "Forgive me," he coughed, trying to find some way to backtrack.

"No," Erik shouted. He forced the noble back to his feet and was more than willing to kill him. It would be so very easy. No one knew where Raoul had gone. They believed him on a honeymoon, not below the opera house with the former Phantom. Knowing that he could not, he settled for striking the man across the face. In making contact with his jaw line, Raoul fell to the ground, unconscious. "Wonderful," Erik commented, removing the masque to massage his temples as he felt a headache coming on.

Eloise laughed quietly, catching the attention of the former Ghost. When she noticed him looking at her and saw that he had removed the masque, she quieted down. The way he looked was still something of a shock to her. Since leaving the gypsy camp, she had not seen any human oddities. She was not as used to it any longer. Still, as she allowed herself to continue her observation, it was not all that bad. She certainly had seen worse during her time at the gypsy camp. There was something slightly familiar about his face, oddly. It was almost like something out of a dream.

"Why are you laughing?" he questioned, looking from Raoul and then to her. There was no reason for her to be laughing at the situation. The other man had tried to harm her. He had just knocked the boy out. She had never seen him act violently. Her vision was still blurry, right? She could not be laughing at his face. It was safe for him to have removed his masque, right? Perhaps her vision had returned though, he realized. Maybe she was laughing at him as a way to deal with how he looked. He looked down at the white masque in his hand. "You can see me," he stated. It wasn't a question.

She thought that he already knew that. Then again, she had never had the time to tell Erik that her vision had come back. He likely didn't know it had returned. He must have been thinking that she was laughing at him. That was not something that she would do. Her time in the gypsy camp had made her better than that. Eloise did not want him to think that she would laugh at him.

"Yes, I can see again. It came back right about when Raoul showed up. I'm laughing at the situation," she replied as she came to stand in front of the former Ghost. She looked down at the unconscious man once more before focusing up on Erik's face again, who was staring at her, waiting for what would happen next. It was his eyes that brought her in the most. There was something there that she couldn't quite read. It seemed that he was analyzing her. "You just knocked out Raoul. I didn't think you would be one to fight like that."

"He was attacking you," Erik replied, feeling the need to defend his actions. Did she not want him to do something about the boy's actions? Would he forever live in the shadow of his former enemy? It certainly seemed that way.

She smiled and laughed again. "I'm not faulting you. It was sweet," Eloise answered before leaning upward and placing a small kiss on his deformed cheek. Pulling away and seeing the surprise in his eyes made her blush. She was not sure why she had done that.

It was clear that something could develop between them, Erik knew. Her actions told him that much. She was not afraid of him. She was not looking at him in revulsion. No screams had come from her when she looked at his face. Eloise was standing in front of him, blushing like a little girl with a crush. There was nothing that betrayed distrust in her person. Would it be smart of allow something to develop? He was not so sure. The last time he had allowed himself to grow close to someone had driven him to the brink of madness. Hmm, but maybe he was mad to begin with.

"What are we going to do about him?" Eloise questioned, trying to change the subject. The way that he was looking at her was frightening. It was not in a bad way, though. It was simply an intense stare, as if he was calculating something about her. No one had looked at her in that way. The men in the gypsy camp had looked at her with lust. Her attacker had-no, she didn't want to think about how he looked at her. That would only lead to her getting upset.

Erik sighed. She had changed the subject. He would like to have taken a longer moment to explore what was happening here. The possibility of developing a relationship with Eloise seemed impossible, at best, but she appeared to be interested. It seemed that now was not the time, though to go exploring his possible feelings towards this new woman in his life. He would need to save that for a later date. It was possible that nothing would happen. Perhaps that would be best.

Looking down at De Chagny, he nudged the fop with his foot. He was still out cold. "We will help him. He does not deserve it, and I will not ask you to become involved in this unless you would like to." Erik looked back up at her, fully expecting her to ask to be led out of this place. He almost thought it would be best for her to leave. Something small at the back of his mind told him it would be for the best. Why would he think that, though?

"It is not as though I have anything pressing to get to," Eloise answered. She still had never told the former Phantom much about herself. All he knew was that she had left the gypsy camp. That had prompted a reaction from him, she remembered. He didn't have good relations with them. She still wondered why. Now was not the time, though. She continued, "I came to the opera house looking for somewhere to stay. I don't have a home."

"You are welcome to stay here as long as you would like," Erik replied without thinking. It surprised him. Why was he offering his home to her? They had no relationship. He could not expect her to stay in his dark, dank lair. Then again, if they were to go on a hunt for Christine, they would not be able to stay here. They would need to travel together. Raoul thought them a married couple. In travel, they would end up staying in the same room. That thought both terrified and-though he didn't want to admit it to himself-thrilled him.

Eloise smiled and nodded. "Well, I suppose that we should all get some rest for the night." She looked down at Raoul again, who was finally beginning to come to. She could not help but to take a step closer to Erik. This other man had attacked her, and it reminded her of her rape. Eloise took his hand tightly in hers as she watched De Chagny wake up.

Raoul groaned and rubbed his jaw. He blearily looked up at the Phantom and his woman, who were staring down on him. He sat up on his knees, waiting for either one of them to say something. When neither said anything, he slowly pulled himself up to his feet. "I should go," he commented, turning away from the two. He was insane to think the Ghost would ever help him. That beast-

"Where are you going, boy?" Erik questioned with no emotion in his voice. He watched as his former enemy turned back around to face him. The brief shock that passed over the boy's face aggravated him, but he let it pass for the moment. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from De Chagny. "You may as well become used to my face," Erik commented as he turned to fix the viscount with a determined expression. "I will help you save Christine."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Here is the next chapter. The M rating partially comes into play here. Please review.

xxx

Raoul could not believe that the Phantom had agreed to help him. It seemed like he had lost all chances in getting the man to find his lost wife. Somehow, it had happened though. And now, he found himself above the lair and walking through the opera house with said man, trying to figure out what plans to make for the morning. With night fast approaching, there was not much that they could do now. They could start by leaving the opera house, though.

"We can start looking in the morning," the noble continued from what he had previously been discussing-where he had last seen his wife. He paused by Christine's old dressing room. He had not realized that they had traveled to this area. It was odd. It was not somewhere that he wanted to venture into. Right now, the Phantom was acting like a man. The last thing anyone needed was for him to fly into one of his rages. Perhaps the woman who had quietly been following at the Ghost's side had something to do with it-the Phantom's better attitude. Finally, he continued, "There is an Inn that we can stay at, just outside of the city. It will give us somewhere neutral to work out of. I will be able to reserve a room for myself as well as you and your wife."

Stay in a room with Erik? Eloise thought to herself. It was not something that she had ever planned on doing-sleeping in a man's room. The memories of her attack still plagued her. If she had to share a bed with a man, there was no telling how she would react. Then again, this was Erik. He would not try to harm her. But, she hadn't known him long. He very well could try something. Hmm, but it didn't make sense in her mind that he would ever try something. Why was it that she trusted him?

"What if Christine is to end up here?" Erik questioned. The idea of sharing a room with Eloise was interesting, but he would prefer to remain in the opera house. Here, he was safe. No one bothered him here ever. Most people thought him dead, and that was the way he wanted it to be. Going to some Inn where the fop was known could end badly. It could be a trap to capture him. There was no proof that Christine was missing. Then again, the boy was acting desperate. No, she had to be missing.

Eloise spoke up, "Wouldn't she have shown up by now, though? If she was traveling on her own and had sought you out, Christine should have gotten here by now-even if she had walked the route." Eloise certainly had experience with making her way through the world on foot. It was easy for her to make the estimate of how long the journey would take to come from Christine's home to the lair.

"I suppose," Erik answered. "Still, there is no point in leaving here for the night. It will be just as easy to leave from here as it would be to leave from your Inn." He simply did not want to leave his lair. Why would he risk going somewhere? If someone were to recognize him, he would be taken away. What good would he do then? Christine would remain lost. The boy would give up. There was no telling what Eloise would do-probably move on with her life.

The viscount sighed. It was clear that convincing the Phantom to leave this hole was not going to be an easy feat. It likely would not be best to push the issue for the night. For now, he would concede to the other man's wishes. "If that's the case, I will leave now. It will take a while to reach the Inn."

Waiting on the man to return in the morning would waste daylight. It would only hinder them to have the boy stay elsewhere for the night. Though he was loathe doing it, the Phantom opened his home to his once enemy. When the fop actually accepted the offer, Erik was quickly getting to his wit's end. Too much was happening in his life again. He had gone from peace and living alone-and slowing going insane-to living life in the fast lane again. Now he was leading his enemy back to the lair to allow him to spend the night.

"Where am I to stay?" Raoul asked. He certainly had not planned this. It was shocking how everything was turning out. He was willingly ready to stay in this hole. It was to save Christine he reminded himself. It was a necessary evil. Though, he had to admit that the Phantom's lair was not all that bad.

"The guest room," Erik replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

xxx

Erik stood awkwardly in his room, looking everywhere but at Eloise. He had not thought this plan through. With Raoul staying in the guest room and thinking that they had a relationship, there was no place but his room for Eloise to spend the night. Never had he had a woman in his room. Never had he planned to have a woman spend the night with him. She was simply sitting on the right side of the bed, seeming to wait for his reaction.

"You can have the bed," Erik stated, still not looking at her as he removed his masque and set it on the bed side table. He turned his back to her and made his way towards the door. The Phantom stopped when he heard her tell him to wait.

The thought of spending the night with a man terrified Eloise. The memories of what had happened to her kept replaying in her mind. She was doing a good job at not getting upset by it though. Still, the pain and fear was there. All she could think about was being left alone in this room with Erik going somewhere else in the room. Raoul could show up then and finish what he started. Or, he could rape her like the other man had. Her mind was quickly beginning its downward spiral again as tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Why are you crying?" he questioned, coming towards her. Carefully, he sat next to her on the bed. It seemed that her memories of rape were in her mind again, tormenting her. He had saved her and yet her mind still made him out the beast. It would never end. He took her hand and forced it to the deformed side of his face. "Your attacker wasn't deformed. His face was whole. Is mine? No, so I beg you to stop thinking of me as that creature. I could never harm a woman that way."

"No," Eloise protested. She did not want him to think that she saw him as the bad guy. And, why was it that his touch always brought her out of her mental torment? Maybe if she were to have relations with him, her memories of the attacker would disappear.

"No? You think I would rape someone?" Erik growled. "I am not that much a beast." He tried to get up and move away from her, but she held fast to his hand. Her other free hand came up and behind his neck to pull him to her-to kiss her full on the lips. The initial shock wore off after a few moments, and he was sorely tempted to continue, but he pulled away from her. "What are you doing?"

Eloise let out a shaky breath. The memories of her attack were clear in her mind, so she was determined to erase them. She replied, "I am making new memories." She stood up for a brief moment before coming to sit in the Phantom's lap. She put her arms around his shoulders and stared into those wondrous mismatched eyes. It would be so easy to fall into those pools of blue and never return. Once again, she brought her lips to his. This time, there was emotion to the kiss. She so wanted him to return the sign of affection.

This was insane, Erik knew. It had to be some sort of dream. There was no way this all could be real. Here he was, the Devil's Child, with a woman in his lap being affectionate to him. It would be so easy to give into the lust that he was feeling. But, no, he could not do that. She deserved better than simple lust; she deserved love. But, when her hand took his and led it to one of her breasts, he could not stop the moan that escaped his throat. He could not help as he began to return her affections.

When her hand ventured its way lower down his body to find his manhood, the former Phantom could not help the surprised gasp that escaped his throat. Never had anyone touched him there. It felt like nothing he could describe. But it was when she opened his trouser and began fully touching him that he realized just how good the joys of the flesh could be.

Thoughts exited his mind when she moved from his lap to sit beside him. All the while, she had not stopped her kiss or touching him. Slowly, as if unsure, she took her hand away to experiment in the area with her mouth.

His entire body shuttered when she did this. Never had he dreamed that this was possible. Certainly, he had read about what a man and woman would do together, but he had never thought that he would get to experience this. It was the most pleasurable thing he had ever felt. Warmth was quickly spreading through his body. It just felt so good.

The feeling was quickly becoming too much, and he knew that he would get close to the edge and fall over it if she continued. He did not want it to end yet. With a newfound confidence, he pulled her up from her activity and began kissing her with a passion he didn't know he had. He leaned forward, making her lean backward into the bed.

Having him on top of her and the actions that she had done had not triggered any bad memories for Eloise. It made her happy to know that she would be able to enjoy this time with Erik. When his hands slowly came down to her inner thigh, she could not help the sigh that escaped her or her hips coming upwards, searching for something. Her body was therefore satisfied and bringing forth soft moans of pleasure when a finger began to explore and enter her.

The two were interrupted by loud banging on the bedroom door. They were both surprised by this, and both would have been willing to ignore it, had it not been the voice of Raoul. He continued banging on the door until Erik opened it.

"What?" Erik demanded. He was not in the mood for the fop. Eloise had-she was-gods, his mind was everywhere and nowhere at the moment. He wanted to get rid of the boy and go back to Eloise. Perhaps she would be willing to pick up from where they left off.

Raoul got the impression that he had interrupted something between the Phantom and his wife-if the woman were even really that. Now was not the time, however. He had found a ransom letter in the guest room-along with a dead messenger. All of this was explained to the Opera Ghost.

Erik read the ransom letter aloud, "If you want your wife back, bring back the Devil's Child."


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Thank you all for your support. Please review.

xxx

"The Devil's Child," Raoul stated. "It means that-

"I am well aware of the implications," Erik interrupted, turning away from the man to enter the room to retrieve the masque. Thoughts of his time in the gypsy camp were something that he was able to ignore for the most part. Now, he was being forced to relive it. They wanted the "Devil's Child" back. How could it be that they wanted him back? And, how was it possible for Raoul, of all people, to know of that part of his life?

Eloise did not know entirely what was going on. When Erik had gone to answer the insistent banging at the door, she had stood up to straighten out her simple dress. Her emotions had been ruling her before he had pulled away, and she had been acting in a way that was not proper. Still, she had not wanted to stop. Erik had been responding to her, and his touch made her feel good. She truly was becoming a wretched woman-a fallen woman sleeping with a man she had only just met.

"What's going on?" Eloise questioned as the Phantom put his masque back in place. She was unsure of herself now. How were they to act towards one another now? She had initiated the intimacy.

Raoul provided the answer, coming to stand beside his once enemy, "The gypsies have taken Christine. I found a ransom letter in the guest room. They want the Devil's Child back in return for her."

"The Devil's Child?" Eloise questioned, laughing slightly. "That is an old wives' tale. There is no truth to it. The tale is solely a way to warn-"

"It is all too real," Erik interrupted, his voice sounding off to the others in the room. He found himself going back to those black memories of his childhood in the camp. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked between the two. "You are not the only one here who spent time with the gypsies, though you were likely treated much better. You were a part of the camp, a member. The Devil's Child was an act. It made much money for the camp, until he escaped."

"You?" Eloise questioned. Was that why he wore the masque? Had they harmed him as a part of an act? She knew that the older head gypsies had used to do that. Human oddities were an easy way to make money. Everyone was fascinated by them. Of course, that was before she had come to the camp. Markus, her head gypsy, had not acted that way. He had not tortured anyone who would perform for the camp. Still, she remembered something from when she was young. Markus' father had been one to practice the old ways.

"Yes," Raoul answered for the Phantom. He had heard from Giry how poorly the Ghost had been treated while in the camp, though he did not know everything. The stiff actions and the way he spoke confirmed this. Though Raoul was not a fan of the Opera Ghost, he was not one to advocate torture. "Do you think they would harm Christine?"

Erik nodded. "Anything is possible. If they associate her with me-which they clearly do, they will do whatever possible to bring me back. That can very well be torture, rape, whatever you can imagine. They are under the impression that your wife is something of importance in my life." He glanced at the letter once again, noting the signature. An annoyed laugh escaped him. "Oh, it truly is a very small world." He held out the letter to Eloise. "Markus."

Eloise took the letter to read it over. It was clearly Markus' handwriting. This did not make sense to her, though. Markus was not one to use violence. Never had she heard him speak about the Devil Child. Could it be that violence had been practiced prior to her time in the camp? She looked back up at the man in the masque. "I don't understand this. Markus was never violent. His father had practiced the old ways of the acts."

"And the father's name was?" Erik questioned, already having a feeling that he knew.

"Javert, I think," Eloise answered.

"And the world grows even smaller," he commented, looking away from her as memories of his past became all the more prevalent in his mind.

"Where would they be now?" Raoul questioned. He had not thought about Christine being tortured or raped. If she were to be raped, she would be a fallen woman. His family would never accept that. She needed to be rescued before that happened.

"Aicha vorm Wald, Bayern," Eloise replied.

"Germany?" Raoul questioned, surprised. "It will take us so long to get there."

"What would you like her to do, fop?" Erik replied angrily. He turned to face the man, glaring at him. "She cannot control where they travel. You are asking me to save your wife and return to a world of torture. Do not complain of time and travel." The memories of his time in the camp were in the forefront of his mind. It had been the lowest point in his life, and now he was about to return to it all because of this boy. "Tell me, Raoul, why should I bother to save her? She is nothing to me."

"You loved her," Raoul replied, taking a few steps back. It was clear that the Phantom was not happy at the moment. There was no telling what he would do.

"You took her away. Now, she is in a gypsy camp; the threat of torture and rape is very real for her every damn day. Do you think the men will be kind with her body as they satisfy their needs? They are not easy with a child's body. Why be gentle with an adult?" Erik answered, his voice rising with his increasing anger.

"Oh God," Eloise commented, realizing what he meant.

The noble, however, did not catch on. "What are you talking about? A child? What does that-"

"Personal experience, boy," Erik replied, taking a step towards the noble. Before the other had the chance to react, the Phantom spun the man around and forced him against the wall. He stood uncomfortably close to De Chagny. "The Devil's Child was not spared rape by the men," he whispered into Raoul's ear. "I was not spared by them," he shouted and shoved de Chagny away. "I escaped only after killing Javert. I was but a child, forced to commit murder to escape further rape. You are asking me to return to that. My simple touch now made your skin crawl. Imagine it all around you, violating you. That is the world your wife is trapped in. That is what awaits us in the camp. Tell me why I should go back to my personal Hell and save her!"

"Erik," Eloise interjected as she slowly made her way to stand in front of him. She took his hands in her own, trying to find some means to calm him. The pain and anger was clear in his eyes as he stared down at her. "You will not be there alone. No one will harm you this time. If we can save Christine from her fate, I think that we should." She continued so only he could hear, "You have seen how rape has affected me."

Her touch soothed his seething mind slightly. At the very least, her touch brought back memories of what they had been doing before de Chagny showed up. Those memories were much better than the ones of torture and rape that were running rampant in his mind. Her words made their way through his damaged mind. She was right. Christine did not deserve to be raped.

He sighed and looked past her to the noble. "We will leave in the morning. Now, please, I ask you to leave this room for the remainder of the night."

"Thank you," he answered. He turned to leave the room, but he paused at the door. The noble turned back to look at the Phantom. He wanted to say something, but he did not know what. The fate that the Ghost had suffered at such a young age was unimaginable. "She's right," he stated quietly. "You won't be alone this time. I will help you."

Erik merely nodded and watched the boy go. He did not want to discuss things further with the fop tonight. Raoul would not be of much use in a fight. Still, he did have money and was popularly known. That could be used to their advantage. The gypsies craved money. It was their weakness.

Eloise didn't know what to say. His history-at least part of it-had been revealed to her. It was horrible. How had a child managed to survive such torture? She put her arms around him, trying to find some way to express herself. He stiffened at her touch.

The former Opera Ghost pulled away from the woman. To stay in this room with her tonight would not end well. His tortured mind was eating away what little stability he was holding onto at the moment. He needed to be alone for some length of time-at the bare minimum, the rest of the night. "I will be of no good for you tonight," he stated, thinking about how they had been acting before Raoul had shown up. "Our actions from earlier…I should not have acted in such a way. You should sleep. I will be in the music room if you need me."

"Erik," she called after him as he turned and left the room. She quickly followed after him, needing to comfort him in some way. When she caught up to the former Opera Ghost, Eloise stood in front of him to block his way. "I enjoyed it," she stated quietly, glancing at the floor briefly before looking back up at the mismatched eyes. "Come to bed with me."

The temptation was high. It could be so easy to purge the memories from his mind through a night with this woman in front of him. It was not something he could do. It would do no good for either of them. He tried to walk away from her, but she held her position firm in front of him. "I cannot," he replied, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Please, do not make me do this."

"Then allow me to stay with you in the music room," Eloise returned, placing one of her hands over his. It was only his touch that would not bring back bad memories of her attack. "Please?"

He sighed. How was it that she was able to do this, bend him to her will? It seemed as if women all had this strange ability. "As you wish," he replied.

xxx

_She did not know where she was. She had been taken from the train station, but that was the last thing that she could remember. All she knew now was that she was in a cage. Her arms were bound behind her back. Her ankles were bound as well. A short chain kept the bindings locked to one another. Due to this, she was unable to do anything but remain kneeling all day. _

_Once a day someone would come to feed her a piece of bread and give her water, but that was all. No one would help her. She remained in the same clothing every day. No one helped her to relieve herself. A corner of the cage was used for that. Her health was quickly becoming worse. At the very least, she had heard someone of authority say that she was not to be harmed. She was "to remain intact until the Devil's Child came to rescue her_.

xxx

AN: I am taking bits and pieces from the back story of the Phantom from Gaston Leroux and Susan Kay. If you have any suggestions for the plot, please let me know.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Hello everyone. Thank you for your views and the review. I appreciate it.

xxx

The odd trio was now on its way out of France and toward Germany. Neither Raoul nor the Phantom had been able to get much sleep. As a result, both had gone early in the morning to secure safe passage out of the city. They had ended up arguing, which resulted in Eloise waking up to try and get the men to stop their fighting. Eventually, Erik had agreed to allow de Chagny to find their transportation.

Sitting in the back of the horse drawn carriage, Raoul was doing everything he could but to look at the former Opera Ghost or at the woman that was with him. It was odd for him to think that the man had been able to move on and find a wife. The last time he had seen the Phantom, the man had lived and breathed for Christine. The woman appeared to be happy, dressed now in a red dress. It seemed like she was not being forced to stay here. She sat close to the Phantom and seemed at ease, trying to converse with the quiet man.

Eloise had been trying to make small talk with Erik. He had only been providing curt answers or a simple nod or shake of the head. She could guess that it likely had something to do with his thoughts of both the past and the future. She could not blame him. In watching him sleep-from what little sleep he did get-she watched him toss and turn, grunt and groan. It appeared that she would not be able to converse with Erik, but she had noticed Raoul continue to sneak glances at her. Perhaps he would like to talk.

"Have you been to Germany?" Eloise questioned, catching the noble off guard.

So, it hadn't gone unnoticed that he had been looking at the two. "Yes," Raoul answered, giving the woman his full attention now. "I have been further north in the country. I speak a small amount of standard German. It should do well enough in the southern part."

"They speak more than standard German," Erik supplied, staring out the window. When he heard the noble utter something in confusion, the former Opera Ghost turned his attention to the fop. This whole situation was becoming more and more frustrating. He had not planned on leaving the safety of his lair to go on some rescue mission. He had not planned on teaching another language. "There are dialects in the country, just as there are here. Would you like to learn?"

"I don't see the point," Raoul answered. "The gypsies speak English. They will know who I am, given my name and reputation."

"Which is a problem," Eloise interjected. She knew that Erik would be none too happy with Raoul rejecting the offer. She would have to do some sort of damage control. "They will know you are Christine's husband. Somehow, we will need to make you look different. That would also mean seeming to be from Germany would be in your best interests. Speaking the native dialect will help."

xxx

Another three hours had passed and Erik was still no closer in teaching de Chagny the new dialect. It was as if the boy were unable to learn, or perhaps unwilling. Time and time again he would go over the conjugation and grammar differences between the standard and the dialect, and yet Raoul was unable to keep up. Though he had been focusing his attention on the boy, Eloise had joined in on the lesson and was now slowly learning the dialect as well. Though she struggled, she was doing quite better than Raoul. It was frustrating to no end.

"Why can you not understand this?" the former Phantom questioned, the annoyance ringing all too clear in his voice when Raoul once again failed in a simple greeting. "If you wish to win your wife back then you will need to appear knowledgeable of the language. You will need to be able to communicate a simple greeting, boy."

"Not all of us are as _brilliant _as you, monsieur Phantom," Raoul countered. He was growing so tired of these lessons in language. What made things worse was the fact that the man was a slave driver. His "teacher" allowed for no mistakes-only accepted perfection.

"Watch yourself, de Chagny," Erik replied. "It would not bode well for others to hear who you are traveling with. Were I to be discovered, who would rescue your Christine then?"

"It isn't as if that masque of yours is inconspicuous," Raoul replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He did not need to be reminded that he had to go to this beast in order to hope and save his wife. It was likely that she had already been compromised by this point. She would be no good to him then. They could try to keep such an event secret, but it was a secret that marriages forbid.

Eloise sighed. These two had been bickering back and forth for hours now. It was becoming taxing on her nerves. There had to be something the two could talk about without fighting. She didn't know what it could be, though. All she knew was that Erik had a love for music and was a secretive man. She did not know much on Raoul, besides his title.

"Before you two begin quarrelling again like an old married couple," Eloise interjected, "why don't we change the subject?" She watched as both men fixed their attention upon her. Clearly, she was the one supposed to come up with new conversations. She had never been one to speak at length, and she was rarely the one to start conversation. No, she preferred to let others do the talking. "Why don't we clear up the rumors that have spread across Paris?" she suggested. This could be something that they could at least agree upon-the concrete facts of what had happened.

"One needs to know the rumors before they can be disproved," Erik stated simply. "With angry mobs and the Gendarme running about my home, it has been rather difficult to learn of rumors."

"You murdered a man on stage," Raoul protested. "What did you believe would happen? The Gendarme would come down to your lair with flowers and sweets?"

"What?" questioned Eloise, looking at Erik. She had heard tale that he had killed, but she had not truly believed it. She had seen that he was capable of violence, but she did not believe him a murderer. He had said he had killed in self defense. That was different from a public murder. Distantly, she wondered what had happened to her attackers. Erik had prevented the men from harming her further.

"Two men, actually," Erik corrected. "The lady wishes to have the facts correct. Try to stick to them." He turned to look at the woman by his side. There was a look of fear in her eyes. It was something that the former Phantom was used to seeing. Though, it was something that he wished not to be present in her eyes. Clearly, he had made a mistake. "You fear me now," he stated, his voice dark. If she were to come to fear him, who would he have in this world? He could allow himself to grow closer to this woman if he chose to. They had acted intimate before being interrupted…

Eloise made to protest, but she was cut off from a shout from outside of the carriage and the scared noises of horses from the carriage. Something was happening, the trio knew. The halt of their progress was far too abrupt to be anything normal. The sounds of the horses were not typical. There was then a loud thud, and everything became much too quiet.

"You two stay," Raoul stated, making to exit the carriage to find out what exactly was going on. He had hired this driver knowing that the man would keep his mouth shut and get them to their location quickly and efficiently. In seeing the Phantom about to protest, he continued, "It will do us no good if anything happens to you, Phantom. Stay hidden. You are good at that." And, without another word, he exited the carriage to discover what was happening.

Erik sat for a few moments, confused by de Chagny's words. Had the boy actually considered someone else's security before his own? Odder still, the noble had considered an enemy's life before his own. No one had ever done such a thing for him recently. Eloise had been willing to verbally defend him, but now he had someone thinking about _his _safety. It was something he could not understand.

Still, the noble was not the best in a fight. He could hold his own, so long as the attacker was not in the right frame of mind. That was the only way the boy had bested him before-when the pair had been fighting in the cemetery for Christine. Love had blinded him, but there were no blinders now. He would not let Raoul be murdered. No, if he were to die, it would be at the Phantom's hands. So, without a word to Eloise, he too exited the carriage.

Raoul heard the door to the carriage open and close. The sight of the Opera Ghost put him oddly at ease. He had no idea what had happened. The carriage driver lay dead at his feet, a pool of blood surrounding the body. Raoul had only just managed to calm the horses. He hadn't the slightest clue where the murderer could be.

It was therefore a surprise to him when the Phantom was suddenly pushing him out of the way of the assailant. A knife cut through the thin air that had once been his head. Raoul watched from a few paces away as the former Opera Ghost easily removed the weapon from the attacker's hand and forced the man onto his knees-his own weapon turned against him and at his throat.

"Who are you working for?" Erik demanded, his voice soft. Still, in that voice there was a commending air. It was his voice that could be so easily used to enchant those around him. It was something that had gained him fame throughout Europe, though it had not always proved a positive note.

The man simply laughed as he looked into the masked man. "I do not fear you," he stated with a thick accent that neither Raoul nor Erik recognized. "A man in a mask is nothing to fear. The threat of death? I welcome it."

"You should fear him," Raoul stated as he came to stand beside the Phantom. It seemed so odd to him to be on the same side of this man. Not long ago, the two had been sworn enemies, willing to kill one another. Now, it seemed, they had some sort of awkward alliance. Was that the proper term?

"Show me what's under the mask then," the man retorted. "I'm not fearing some circus freak!"

"Not a circus freak," Erik corrected. He held the knife a little closer to the man's throat which drew a fine line of blood. "A side show. An oddity. The Devil's Child." He noticed the man's eyes widen ever so slightly. "Ah, yes, you have heard my title."

"He's been dead for years," the man spat.

"I assure you, he is very much alive," Erik answered with his anger getting the best of him. He was caring less and less who this man was or why he had murdered the carriage driver. The man didn't seem to even know that much. Perhaps he was simply a distraction? Briefly, he looked at the noble at his side. It seemed odd to him. Raoul had never forced the masque from his face. Everyone else had demanded to see his visage, but not this man. "Show him," Erik stated to de Chagny. "Prove to him that the Devil's Child still lives."

To say he was surprised was an understatement. Raoul had never expected the Phantom to willingly ask to have the masque removed. Though he did not like the man, he had never tried to remove that one thing of dignity from the man. He didn't know what to say, so he merely reached out and removed the masque, though he was careful enough to keep the wig in place.

The man looked in shock for a moment before smiling triumphantly. "I was right," he stated more to himself then anything. He laughed for a moment and then focused on the Devil and his accomplice once again. "You will pay for killing him." And then he began to shout, alerting some unseen persons that the target had been located.

The knife slid across the man's throat, silencing him. Erik briefly looked at the body. Would he never be able to escape bloodshed? Before Eloise had shown up in his life, before Raoul had returned, he had sworn not to murder again. That was all for naught now, it appeared. Still, now was not the time for musing. He pulled his masque from Raoul's hand and quickly jumped up into the driver's seat of the carriage, ready to leave.

When the former Opera Ghost saw the noble fall over, Erik knew there would be no easy escape. He could not leave the boy here, though he could not explain why. Something prevented him from allowing whoever was after him to kill Raoul. His fate would be the same as his own and that of Eloise.

He tried to get to the fallen body, but he felt something stick into the side of his neck. He had time to pull the offending object out and glance at it-a thick needle with some sort of device on the end-before the strong pull of darkness enveloped him.

xxx

Please review.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Hello everyone. Thank you for your support. Here is the next chapter. Please review.

xxx

Eloise had heard a struggle just outside the carriage. She knew that it would do no good if something were to befall her as well as her friends-if she could call them that. Raoul had threatened her. And Erik…well, she wasn't sure what they had, if anything.

Still, knowing that it would be fruitless for her to try and help, Eloise silently slipped out of the opposite door of the carriage from the sound of the struggles. It was lucky, but perhaps also unlucky, that the path they were taking was a road less traveled. The small dirt road was surrounded by thick bushes and trees on either side. It was easy enough for her to slip, unnoticed, into the vegetation. It would only be a short matter of time before she would be able to come out and try to find her "friends".

Sitting alone in the shrubbery, Eloise was left alone to her thoughts and the recent events that had led her up to this point. Had those men never attacked her, she would not be hiding here now. If she had just stayed away from the Opera House, she could….what? She was a drifter. She had no home. Rape was certainly an inevitable factor in her life. Why had she never accepted it? Why had she foolishly believed that she would be able to avoid it? It was a painful thought, a painful acceptance, for her to realize, but there was nothing she could do about it now. All she could do was be happy in the fact that Erik had saved her. But, in saving her, what path had the madman set her upon?

xxx

Raoul was not sure how much time had passed. He was not sure how long he had been unconscious. He also was not aware of just how long he had remained tied up and suspended upside down from a large tree. He had no means of escape. Their attackers had ensured that the rope was bound tightly from his feet to his upper chest. A gag prevented him from calling out for the Phantom's help. All he could do was hope that someone would come along and cut him down. Well, help him down. He was suspended a good six feet in the air. A fall from that height could potentially do some damage.

It seemed like luck was on his side this time as Eloise slowly crept into his line of vision. She had not yet noticed him and seemed very wary of the situation. He could not blame her. There was no telling how she lived cooped up with the Phantom all the time. Due to his situation, Raoul knew that the Opera Ghost must always have been watching his back. That was anything but a calm situation for someone to live in. He felt oddly guilty for it, somehow, though he did not know why.

Eloise looked upward at the sound of something-though she did not know what. Perhaps a bird calling for its mate? But then, she noticed Raoul strung upside down by his feet. It was comical, and it took a great amount of effort for her not to laugh. She could understand why thieves would leave an opponent stranded, but tying the person up to hang in a tree-and stealing a man's shirt?-seemed off.

"I guess you want to get down?" Eloise questioned, not really waiting for an answer as she looked for the line which was keeping the poor fop suspended in the air. It did not take long for her to find as the rope was merely tied to the base of a nearby tree. So, it appeared that the attacker wanted Raoul to be freed from his trap. But why?

Raoul was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground as the woman released the rope. With an annoyed grunt, he sat up straight and removed the gag from his mouth. The rush of blood leaving his head made for a sudden dizzy spell, but he quickly recovered.

He stood up to brush off his trousers. It surprised him that the motley crew had allowed him to keep even this small dignity. He would never understand why the attackers had taken his shirt away. What purpose did that serve?

Eloise came to stand beside the noble. It would be lying to say that the young man did not look good without a shirt on. Why was she thinking this? She was "married" to the Phantom of the Opera. Raoul would expect her to remain loyal to Erik. And, thinking more on it, she asked, "What happened? What has become of Erik?"

A dutiful wife, Raoul thought, she thinks only of his safety. Will the women who enter my company forever be fixated on that monster? Still, trying to stretch out his sore muscles, he replied, "I don't know what happened to our masked friend. We were attacked." He put his hands into his pockets, something he had started doing when annoyed by something. There was a piece of crumpled paper in his pocket; it had not been there previously. He pulled it out to look at it, only for the girl to snatch it away.

"This is Markus' handwriting," she commented as she skimmed over the lettering on the page. He had his own unique writing style, an old gypsy language. Only those who had traveled in his tribe would know this written language.

"Well, what does it say?" Raoul demanded, becoming inpatient as he tried to read over Eloise's shoulder. "It isn't even a real language. This is great. They take away Erik-"

"You're calling him by name now?" Eloise interrupted, a bemused look on her face.

Raoul stiffened slightly. "Yes, but it makes no difference."

"It would to him," Eloise commented. She was not sure how she knew this. It was by some instinct, with the short time she had spent with the Opera Ghost, she realized his desperate need to be treated like a human, not a beast. She continued, "The letter is in an old gypsy language. No one speaks it; it is only meant to be read or written. Markus must know that I am here."

"What does it bloody say?" Raoul repeated, becoming all the more agitated. It was quickly turning late, and they were not even close to their destination. Christine surely would have been compromised by this point. And now the Opera Ghost-the key to her rescue-was missing too.

"Patience, boy" Eloise replied, becoming annoyed with his attitude. "The letter…the ones who attacked you work for Markus. They took Erik. It says that Christine is a lost cause. In two weeks time, they will…" She found it hard to continue as she reread the letter once again. Memories of her own attack were quickly coming back to her head. Eloise held a hand over her mouth to suppress a sob.

Raoul was even more confused now. Was she crying about the Phantom or was it something else entirely? She had stopped when she was about to seal Christine's fate. The woman lived with a corpse. What could possibly make her break down like this? Still, he would need to do something to get her to calm down enough to tell him what was going on.

Slowly, he put his arm around her and tried to tell her that everything was okay and that there was no reason to be upset. He was shocked how quickly she pulled away from him and fell to her knees, begging him not to harm her. She was begging him not to rape her!

"Oh God," Raoul stated, as he looked down on the sobbing woman in shock. "He raped you. That is why you are with him, isn't it? We will take you away from him. There is no need for more deception and more violence. He probably-"

The noble's words pierced through Eloise's rattled mind. Her eyes went wide with shock at the false words he was touting. "No," Eloise protested loudly. "Erik saved me." She did not know why she was telling the boy this. It seemed like the appropriate thing. "I came to the opera house looking for a place to hide and live. Two men…they grabbed me. They…one man held me as the other…" She paused for a long moment, trying to push the memory's hold on her away. Instead, she focused on Raoul's eyes, which were wide. "And then, the men were gone. I woke up with Erik. He has been nothing but kind to me. I do not believe he could ever commit the crime of…that kind of attack."

De Chagny doubted it. The Phantom was a man. Men had their certain needs. It seemed quite unlikely that a man of his age could go for such a long length of time without bedding a woman. Raoul, himself, had had intimacy before his marriage to Christine. Yes, his teenage years had been prosperous. Since his union to the opera star, he had, of course, remained loyal. How could the Opera Ghost never have enjoyed the joys of the flesh? Certainly a prostitute would accept his money? If he were to keep the mask on, the Phantom would be just like any other paying customer, if perhaps a tad eccentric.

Eloise wanted the noble to say something, anything. It seemed, however, that the man was deep in his personal thoughts. She had seen Erik do this. Perhaps the two were not as different as they believed? Maybe that was the reason for Christine's feelings towards both men. That tale was still all rumors for her though. She did not know the true story.

Still, now was not the time to think on such things. It was now the objective to save both Erik and Christine. They had two weeks to journey to Germany. If luck were to shine upon them, perhaps the duo would be able to reach the destination faster than that.

xxx

Surprisingly, the carriage, its belongings, and the horses had been left alone. The gypsies had not looted it nor had any passerby. Eloise had remained in the carriage while Raoul drove the horses and carriage onwards. As it was fast approaching night, he had decided that it would be best to attain lodging for the night. It would do them no good to sleep outside in fear of another attack.

The awkwardness of their present situation arose when purchasing a room for the night. Yes, one room for the _married _couple. The man at the front desk simply assumed that the man and woman traveling together were in union to one another. He would not hear otherwise, assuming that the young couple was shy newlyweds. As a result, he had given them a special room-a honeymoon suite.

Eloise awkwardly stared at the one bed in the room as Raoul cleaned himself in the adjoining bathroom. There was no couch, nor anywhere else a person could comfortably sleep. She certainly did not want to sleep on the floor. She had done enough of that in her life. Raoul had not said anything after entering the room. The boy seemed perfectly at ease.

The noble exited the bathroom, a bath towel covering his lower half and still wearing no shirt. He looked at the woman, his new traveling partner. Plainly dressed as she was, she was still quite pretty to look at. She had a slim build and straight brown hair. Though it certainly was not perfectly clean, it still was appealing to him.

"Are you truly married to the Phantom?" Raoul questioned as he slowly made his way toward her.

"What?" Eloise questioned, turning to face de Chagny. He was standing much too close for comfort and had taken her left hand to look at the band on her finger. She allowed him to remove the ring, though he still kept a hold of her hand with his free hand.

"Hmm, it is a nice ring," Raoul commented before replacing it again. He took a step toward her forcing her to sit back on the bed. This woman was pretty enough. It would be easy enough to manufacture her blood line. His family certainly would approve of her more than Christine. No one knew Eloise. The woman could easily be fixed up. She was a smart woman. There was that little problem of the rape, but no one would discover that. Only the Phantom, Eloise, and he knew of it. Yes, she could replace Christine quite nicely.

Eloise did not like the look in Raoul's eyes. Something was about to happen. She did not know if she would like the result.

Raoul smiled. "It is odd that we met and now find ourselves here. It is all the more odd that Christine and the Phantom are once again together. Perhaps fate meant it to be this way."

"We are supposed to save them; that is our part in this," Eloise stated. Somehow, she remained frozen in her position in front of him.

"Is it?" Raoul continued. "Think of it, Eloise. We both have the chance to begin again. You can leave the deformed freak and lead a normal life. It is quite easy to manufacture a bloodline. And the Opera Ghost will be happy with the other freaks and Christine."

"Christine is your wife!" Eloise protested, finding her voice and confidence now before he would have the chance to act on these strange thoughts. "Where has your mind gone? You came to Erik to try and save her. Why would you abandon her now?"

Why was he acting this way? he thought. Raoul didn't know and took a few staggering steps away from the woman. What was he doing? He loved Christine enough to fight the Phantom's rage for her. He had nearly died at the hands of the Opera Ghost. And still, he had ventured back to the man's lair to ask for help in saving her.

"Forgive me," he muttered. He turned away from her and quickly reentered the bathroom. He emerged a few moments later, fully dressed. He quickly crossed over to the small mini-bar to pour himself a stiff drink. "Would you like some?" he asked without paying attention to her.

"Look," Eloise sighed, "you should not numb your mind with that." She came to his side and pulled the glass and spirits away from the man. "You will need to be fully aware tomorrow. Try and get some sleep. If you behave, we can share the bed."

Raoul laughed. "I would not touch something that belongs to the Phantom. I have dealt with his anger previously. I do not believe I would survive it again!"

xxx

_The Devil Child has returned! Come one! Come all! Come see the devil with the angel's voice perform for you all! Glimpse into the face of Mephistopheles! _

_They might have blindfolded him. That might have forced him into a cage and said nothing to him. But he was not deaf and could hear the shouted advertisements. And he had no choice but to perform. When he had tried to, someone else in the cage would suffer for it. A woman, they told him. Though the woman never screamed, he could hear the distinct sound of a whip meeting flesh. No one deserved to suffer due to his actions. _

_So, sing the Devil did. He would perform and capture his viewers with the power of his voice, just as he had done all those years ago. And then his face would be revealed. And then the screams would begin. _

_The only thing that made it at all bearable was the woman in his cage. After the performance, she would be allowed her freedom of the area-though sometimes they would chain her to the floor. When free, however, she would wrap her thin arms around him. He thought he remembered the embrace, but it certainly was not possible. It could not be….._

xxx

Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Hello, my lovely readers. Sorry for not updating. I have been traveling.

xxx

Eloise awoke, nor fully aware of her location. She blinked a few times and attempted to clear the sleep from her eyes. She was unable to bring her hands to her eyes to do this, however, for someone had his arm wrapped around her.

She quickly remembered all that had transpired in the short time since she had come to France. She knew she was in a room-a honeymoon suite-with Raoul de Chagny sleeping soundly besides her, his snoring loud in her left ear.

The young woman had no way of knowing what time it was, though she guessed early morning as a thin stream of light was able to make its way through a crack in the curtains. If that was the case, it would be best for them to get going. There was no telling what the gypsy camp would put the Phantom through, and they only had limited time to save Christine from a terrible fate. Her only option was to start squirming beneath Raoul's arm and try and rouse him.

Something shifting about and a nagging voice slowly stirred Raoul from his slumber. He wasn't fully awake yet, and therefore didn't remember all that was going on. He merely thought it was Christine, attempting to wake him for something-food, perhaps, or to be asked to see some play or something.

"Go back to sleep, love," he coaxed, hugging his "wife" closer and cuddling his face into her hair. He stopped, though. Something was decidedly wrong. This woman smelled different and felt different in his arms. He pulled away from her to look down on the annoyed face of Eloise.

"Good morning, 'dear'," Eloise joked while finally pulling herself away from him to stand up. She stretched and headed toward the bathroom. "We should be going," she called. "We don't have all that long to rescue Christine and Erik."

Raoul merely grunted and forced himself out of the warm bed. He was not a morning person. He was anything but cheerful in the early hours, and the mention of the Opera Ghost certainly did not help his mood any. He remained in this mood as the woman and he left the hotel and continued on their journey to the gypsy camp. With luck, they would arrive within a few days.

xxx

The pair had stopped after some hours of traveling to break for food. Raoul had insisted upon stopping, despite Eloise's protests. She had traveled through this small town they were stopped in previously. It was anything but safe. The town was known as dangerous to men and women alike. Men would often be murdered; women raped. And, given Raoul's looks and family name, it would not take them long to get in trouble.

Raoul had, finally, allowed Eloise to work some of her gypsy magic and create a disguise for him and her out of some clothing and with the use of some makeup. It seemed rather odd to her that Raoul happened to be carrying a lady's makeup, but she had not questioned it.

The disguises were simple enough. Eloise had changed into a simple black dress so as not to attract attention. She'd tied her hair back as well. She looked the part of the common town person. No one would give her special attention, or so she hoped. Raoul was dressed in all black, and the cheapest clothing that he had-though that was not saying much. She had used the makeup to contour his face to give him the impression of an older gentleman. Of the murders one would hear about, it was rare for an old man to be killed who was perhaps traveling with his plain daughter-or so Eloise hoped.

Eloise and Raoul now sat in a small tavern. It was a bustle of activity-people from throughout Europe who had made this town their home flocked here. It was a true hive of scum and villainy.

And it was perfect. This was the best place to hear what was going on in the town. Perhaps Raoul had made the right choice in wanting to come here. Eloise had managed to spot someone who clearly followed the gypsy ways, though he was not someone she recognized. She had chosen to sit at a table beside his, her back to him. She could listen in and learn everything she needed.

"So," Raoul said, trying to make small talk while waiting on their food, "you've been here?"

"Not to this place," Eloise replied, still trying to listen to the table behind her. She hadn't told Raoul anything. The fop would likely ruin the plan. He wasn't very good at subtly. "I passed through the town on my travels. I told you about it already."

A shot rang out as someone was gunned down. The waiting pair turned in time to see a man dressed in all green flop down on the table, dead. The man sitting across from him, dressed in a white shirt with black vest and black pants, holstered his weapon and walked away from the table. He tossed the head bar tender a small sack of money commenting, "Sorry for the mess."

Raoul's eyes were wide, and he was further stunned as everyone else went about their business. "Isn't someone going to do something about that?" he whispered harshly, finally realizing that perhaps the woman was not over reacting about this town.

"No," Eloise answered, with a small laugh. "Guns are uncivilized, but so it this town. Just keep your head down, and try not to act….well, like yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Raoul countered, his voice rising slightly. A few odd looks made him quiet down, though he fixed the woman with a sour look.

Eloise rolled her eyes. "Don't act like the prissy, rich boy. Act more….I don't know, moody. Brooding." A thought came to her, and she had to laugh shortly. "Act like Erik!" That only made the sour look on his face became worse. She would have gone on the joke further if the men behind her hadn't changed their topic to something most interesting.

"Haven't you seen Markus's new toy yet?" the first man commented, his tone gay from perhaps a little too much beer. "The Devil's Child has returned!"

"How would I see it?" the second man slurred, his tone sounding annoyed. "Markus is all the way out in scenic nowhere in Deutschland."

"No he's noooot," replied the first, laughing slightly. "I know something you don't know!"

"Well, tell me!" demanded the second man while banging his fist loudly on the table.

"He's here nooow," the first answered, his voice going up in octaves as he talked. "He's just outside the city, and he has the Devil with him! Oh, and the Devil has a laadddyyy friend! Hee hee."

The second man took a minute to process the information. "I'm going to go see it," he commented as he stood up and stumbled away from the table. He managed to trip and spill his drink all over the man in black sitting at the table beside him.

"Oh no! Uncle!" Eloise calling out, pretending to be concerned and try and cover up her laughter.

The drunken man looked at the man in black. "You look boring. Come with me and we'll see the Devil Child." He pulled Raoul forcefully to his feet. Even in this drunk state, the much larger man was easily able to overpower the noble. He offered his other free hand to Eloise. "Come on, lady."

It would seem that the two would be reaching their goal much earlier than expected as they were pulled along by the random drunk man. Somewhere in the background an odd group made a deal to travel to an odd place to save a princess in distress….

xxx

AN: It's a shorter chapter. I'm sorry. Who caught the Star Wars references? Ha ha


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Hello readers. Thank you for all of the reviews and support.

xxx

The drunken man had abandoned the pair as soon as he pulled them through the entrance. Where the man disappeared to was anyone's guess. Perhaps he had gone to find himself more spirits before visiting a Spirit himself.

Raoul had never found himself in a circus before, which was according to Eloise, tame compared to their current location-a gypsy camp. He had to admit the truth behind her statement. It was like nothing he had seen before. There were wooden gypsy caravans scattered throughout the camp. Tents were set up as well. Neither looked to be in the best of condition. The wood on the caravans was rotting. The paint on the caravans was dry, cracked. The tents had holes in them, and looked to be at the end of their usefulness. It appeared that these gypsies had fallen on hard times. Perhaps that was why they were so focused on trying to capture the Phantom once again.

The tickets into the main tent to see the "Devil's Child" were expensive, more than Raoul cared to think about. What was worse was the early show was sold out. For the time being, he and his female companion were trapped waiting for the late show. For now, he would have to settle with looking at the various wares that the gypsies were trying to sell and hope that he would not be robbed.

Eloise felt odd being back in Markus's camp. It had been so long since she had been among gypsies. It oddly did not feel like home anymore. She hadn't been gone all that long, but she felt more at home under the Opera House with the Phantom. Was it because Erik had saved her?

"Hey old man!" a vendor shouted at the passing couple. She quickly came to Raoul's side, linking her arm through his. She smiled broadly at him, showing off a full set of yellow teeth. Still, that was much more than any of the other gypsies had. And this old man looked like he could use some fun, and he looked like he could afford it to.

Raoul was surprised to find a scantily clad woman suddenly asking him if he was lonely and if he needed any "special help" that his companion could not provide. He made the stupid mistake of telling the woman that he was not romantically involved with Eloise. That only prompted her to become more aggressive in her advances.

Eloise was becoming more and more irritated by this woman. She had never understood why Markus allowed these types of women into the camp. Sure, they could make money for the camp, but they usually would turn up murdered.

"Away with you," Eloise ordered, using old gypsy language. The surprise on the woman's face gave Eloise enough time to quickly pull Raoul away and disappear into a crowd. With any luck, they would not run into her again.

"Thank you," Raoul muttered, awkwardly glancing back to where the strange woman had been. At least in France, those types of women were not as open about their services. It seemed like the normal thing in this place, however. What world had he stumbled into? Even the Phantom's lair was better than this that time ago. At the very least, the Opera Ghost had never asked Christine to share a bed-well, aside from that little show of his called Don Juan.

Eloise sighed, seeing that Raoul was lost in thought. "It appears that you and our special friend are one in the same-always thinking."

"Special friend?" Raoul questioned, confused.

Was this man really that dense? Eloise shook her head, growing further annoyed by the noble. She brought her hand up to cover the right side of her face briefly. "Our special friend," Eloise repeated as she let her hand fall to her side.

"Oh," Raoul replied, not keeping his voice down. He was not aware that someone-someone very important in this camp-was paying close attention to himself and the woman he was with. "Erik," he supplied, as if to confirm it.

That was all this person needed to hear. Word had traveled quickly to him that his old pet had returned and brought along a friend. The whore had failed in capturing the noble, but it was of no matter. She would disposed of tonight. For now, his focus was on capturing Eloise and sending the noble away. It would do no good to kill him. That would only bring in the authorities.

Without a word, he quickly slipped behind Eloise, pulled her wrists behind her back, and bound them with iron cuffs. She would have no way of escape.

"Hello Eloise," he stated with a smile, looking around her shoulder to be close to the woman. "My, my, what are you doing here? And," he looked at the man who was with her-who was now being restrained by two gypsy men, "Raoul de Chagny-what a surprise. Why, I almost did not recognize you under all of that pretty make-up." He jerked his head to the side, giving the signal for his men to drag the de Chagny boy away and back to the woods. With any luck, the boy would run off.

"What do you want?" Eloise demanded, trying to pull away from him. There was no telling what those two men would do to Raoul. And, though she was loath to admit it, she needed the man. It would not be easy to rescue Erik and Christine and then escape. She would need help.

Markus shook his head and began pulling the struggling woman along. "I thought I taught you to be a lady. Well, if you insist upon acting this way, I will treat you just as any other gypsy." He managed to force her into a caravan. He pushed her to the floor and locked the door behind him. Over all the sounds from outside, no one would hear a poor woman being raped.

xxx

The last thing Raoul remembered was being dragged outside of the camp and clubbed over the head with a large slab of wood. Now, as he slowly awoke with a throbbing pain in his head, all he would see around him was a forest.

It seemed, however, that he had not been brought far into the forest, as he could see fire light through some of the trees into what appeared to be a clearing. He could clearly hear the sounds of the gypsy camp. Why would the two men leave him so close to camp? Was this their plan? Or, perhaps more likely, were the men merely lazy? For now, Raoul would settle on the latter.

Slowly, he pulled himself up to his feet. Now he had the added problem of rescuing the Phantom's wife-or whatever she was to him. He still was not entirely certain what she meant. The woman had told him of the Ghost rescuing her. Had she really married the beast though? It would be something to ponder later, for now he had to save this odd group of "friends" he had acquired.

xxx

The late show was about to begin. The crowd had been promised an extra special show for tonight. That, Erik knew, meant that he would suffer more than usual this night. He had heard Markus take away the woman from his cage. Clearly, tonight was solely to be _his _night. What joy.

What seemed off was Markus. Oh yes, he knew the new ring master-so to speak-now. This man took pleasure in bringing him pain. He had to wonder if the son shared his father's odd feelings when seeing someone else in pain. But tonight, the man seemed much more energetic. The man had been boasting on having his way with some woman. He had made it a point to tell this to Erik.

Now was not the time to focus on it, however. Tonight was made different from other nights. Tonight, he wore a masquerade mask. He could actually see some of the crowd. His vision was still hazy from last week when he had "entertained" the crowd. Markus had taken a whip to his face on that account.

Tonight, he was forced to stay in one place. His wrists had been clasped together by iron. The clasps were connected to a thick iron chain, which snaked its way upward to the ceiling of his cage. The chains were taught, affording him very little movement. Such a stance was unnatural. It restricted breathing. How could Markus expect him to perform this way?

The sound of the whip cracking just above his head signaled that Markus had made his way into the cage. It irritated Erik immensely that the entrance to the cage was behind him. He could never see who was about to join him. He had to rely on his ability to discern the footfalls of those who came to visit him in the cage.

"Hello, my gorgeous audience!" Markus called to the people standing outside of the raised cage. The cheers of the crowds only served to make him smile. He could already see his people making their way through the distracted crowd. His gypsies would collect much from the pockets of this crowd.

He turned to face his father's killer. He hated this man-this _thing -_for taking away his father. He had been so young when it had happened. Still, it had tainted his life. Now, though, he had captured the Devil, and he planned to make the Devil pay. Tonight, he would spill blood. Tonight, he would break the Phantom and finally hear screams of agony from the beast's voice.

xxx

Raoul had managed a bit of thievery. The noble had broken into one of the caravans set at the very edge of the camp. No one noticed him, and certainly no one noticed him leave the caravan, dressed in the garb of a typical gypsy. He had managed to work a wig into place as well. No one would notice him from the crowd. He was completely ordinary. The noble had an odd sense that Erik might actually approve of him for once.

De Chagny had remembered to keep his ticket with him. He had managed to be admitted to the show and stand in the very back of the crowd of onlookers. The sight of the man in the cage made the noble's blood stop. Certainly, it was no secret that he did not like the Phantom. Still, he would not wish this upon the man.

The Phantom was locked in a cage. The cage was tall enough for a man to comfortably stand in. Its length and width were comfortable as well. It was as if the Opera Ghost were an animal in a cage on display. What was more distressing was the man being chained to the top of this cage.

The worst of it came from the state of Erik's body. The man had no shirt, no shoes, no socks, merely dirty, sliced slacks. It appeared that the Gypsy Leader would not allow Erik to have the small dignity of being fully dressed. Perhaps the clothing only got in the way of the whip. There was still fresh blood visible on his chest from the last "show". And, this performance had been advertised as being better than the average showing. Raoul could only guess at what that meant.

How was he supposed to get Erik out of this? What had happened to Eloise? And, what had become of his wife? All he could do at the moment was listen to the show begin as the Opera Ghost began his song to enchant those before him.

xxx

AN: Please review. :)


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Hello readers. Here is the next chapter. Please review.

xxx

The crowd had been enchanted by the Phantom's music. Even Raoul had found himself drawn into the show, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be saving the Opera Ghost. Was this odd pull what Christine had felt back at the Opera House? Back then, he had not been focusing on the musical talent of the Phantom, merely his crazed obsession with Christine.

The sudden reveal of the man's face upset the audience when the music was over. The stark contrast from something of such beauty to something of sheer horror was overwhelming. The women screamed in fright. The men jeered. Children hid behind their mother's skirts or began crying. But not Raoul. No, he was accustomed to this shock by now. He merely focused on the man in the cage. Odd, but he could almost see how badly the crowd's reactions impacted the Opera Ghost.

"No need to fear!" called Markus, delighting in the crowd's reaction and Erik's humiliation. He would put on the show they wanted now-torturing the Devil. "He cannot harm you." He began to circle the object of his hatred, eyes flicking from the withering body to the crowd. Perhaps tonight he would be able to break the Ghost's indomitable will. Perhaps tonight he could make the beast scream.

With that thought in mind, Markus brought the whip down hard upon the Phantom's back, drawing blood once again. "The Devil should be punished," Markus stated to the crowed, his voice much to calm for the situation. "Do you not agree?"

Raoul was surprised by the crowd's reactions. Nearly all agreed with the man. They were cheering him on to torture the Phantom. How could humanity behave like this? Raoul might dislike the Opera Ghost, but he did not wish to see him tortured.

And then he remembered Madame Giry's story. The Opera Ghost had grown up in a gypsy camp. He remembered Erik speaking on his past and the tortures he had gone through as a child. The situation was starting to become worse as Raoul realized how it must be impacting the Opera Ghost. The Phantom-no, the man-was reliving the pain of the past. And all for naught. There had to be something that he could do before things got any worse.

The show was only beginning, though. Markus stopped the whipping, allowing the weapon to drop at the Devil's feet. He came to stand to Erik's right, facing the crowd. "Now, you all may have noticed our friend here has a rather deformed face." There was jeering from the crowd. Markus continued, "Now, we can see that the rest of his body is relatively normal-on the outside. I wonder, hmmm, could there be more under the skin?" He pulled out a short knife, the sharp blade gleaming in the light. "What say you, crowd? Shall I begin slicing away the lies to expose the truth?"

Raoul stood for a moment in shock as the crowd vehemently agreed. He stood frozen as the knife was dragged from the exposed skull down to Erik's chin, taking with it flesh. The pain was clear on Erik's face, but the man still did not cry out in pain. This act was becoming more and more dangerous. Markus was causing serious damage now. It was time to act.

The noble looked about the tent. There had to be something of use-something that would distract Markus and send the crowd running. Nothing seemed to stand out, until his eyes landed on a large pile of hay sitting unused in the corner of the tent. It would be easy enough the set the material ablaze. A fire would certainly get the crowd to leave. Raoul just had to make it there, as the hay was currently opposite his position in the tent.

Pain was something that Erik was accustomed to, but the torture Markus was putting him through tonight was quite different. The exposed bone had always caused him pain, but it was something that he hardly noticed any longer. To have that area aggravated was something he could hardly stand. Markus was skinning him, like a beast to feed the feast. The blade continued its dance across his face, taking more flesh with it. Oddly, Markus only harmed the deformed side of his face.

He watched as Markus paused to glower at him. Erik knew what the man wanted-to hear screams of pure agony. Still, he would not allow the man this pleasure. Perhaps tonight would be over soon. All he need do was remain silent. Markus would wear himself out. He could survive the torture to his face for a while longer.

Markus growled in annoyance and brought the blade to the Phantom's exposed chest, scraping away more skin and flesh. There was pain clear in the Devil's eyes, but still the beast would not vocalize his ache. There had to be something he could do. And then, he came up with a brilliant idea. A smile spread across his face as he turned back to address the crowd. "It would appear that the Devil is unfeeling in these more exposed areas. I wonder if _it _will have feeling in more…private areas."

Raoul was not focusing on what the gypsy leader was saying. He had found his way to the hay and had even managed to take some matches. He oddly wondered if the Phantom would be proud of him for pick pocketing a victim from the crowd.

He had just opened the package of matches and was ready to set the hay ablaze when an unearthly scream of agony made him freeze. He looked back at the gypsy leader and Erik. The sight was gruesome, and the screams of pain only made it worse.

Markus had torn away the slacks, exposing Erik for all to see. No one looked away, not in the least bit embarrassed to be staring at the exposed man. The crowd stood, transfixed, as Markus brought the sharp blade across the private, tender flesh. And, when the screams of agony began, the crowd only began to cheer. The Devil was finally breaking.

"God help us," Raoul muttered, before turning back to the task at hand and setting the hay on fire. He waited a moment, watching the material grow in strength. When he believed the flame to be sufficient enough, he began screaming to the crowd of the fire.

Markus saw the panic the crowd quickly turned to before noticing the burning fire in the back of his tent. He cursed; his night ruined. He had finally made the beast scream. He would have to continue this on another night. For now, he had to deal with the fire and make sure that no one was harmed. It would not bode well for him were his customers to burn alive. That would not help business. So, without a word to the chained beast, he turned and left the cage but not before stabbing the blade into the beast's arm. He didn't bother locking the cage behind himself. Who would want to save a beast?

Erik barely registered what was going on. He felt sick from the pain throughout his body. He never thought Markus would go as far as to attack his manhood. What purpose would it serve? He should not have been so stubborn. He should have vocalized the pain Markus caused from skinning his face. Now, he felt as though he were dying. And there was nothing he could do. He could make out the sounds of people screaming, someone was shouting of a fire. He had been left here, perhaps to burn alive. It would not be his first choice in how he was to die, but anything would be better than the pain he was suffering through now.

He was therefore surprised when he heard someone enter the cage behind him. Who would be trying to get him out of here? The person didn't say anything as they fumbled with the clasps about his hands. Whoever it was, they did not know which key to use. Why would Markus send someone new to retrieve his "prized possession" from the cage?

Raoul had been able to get to the cage with no one noticing him. To everyone around, he merely looked like another gypsy doing his job to save an "attraction". When he had come to the door of the cage, he was surprised to find it open. He had been more surprised to find a large key ring hanging from a post near the opening of the cage. There were many, many keys, and Raoul had no way of knowing which key would release Erik.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked, his voice weak. He hated the sound of it.

"I'm trying to help you," Raoul grunted as he finally found the correct key. As the clasps came unlocked, he watched the once strong Phantom of the Opera crumple to the floor. Clearly, the torture had impacted the man more than he had believed. As he stared down on the form for a moment of shock, he could see old and new wounds scattered across Erik's back. Some were fresh and bleeding. Others had been reopened by the sudden movement.

Erik stayed there, crumpled on the floor for a long moment before slowly forcing himself to sit up and look at the man who had saved him. Looking up and seeing the face of Raoul, dressed as a gypsy, surprised him. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to save you," Raoul answered. He looked about the cage. "I must say, your lair back at home is much more comforting than this." He saw the man scowl at him, a look made even worse from the blood and deformed face. "Sorry, that was-"

Erik shook his head. "Just help me up," he stated while offering his hand to the man. He was weak; he had to admit that to himself. He saw the look of shock pass over the noble's face. "Yes, Markus skinned my hands on another showing. That injury may heal eventually. Stop your gawking. I've had enough of that for the time being." Emotion was coloring his voice. He needed to be freed of this place.

Raoul did as he was asked and was further surprised when Erik stumbled, being forced to latch onto him to prevent himself from falling. The once strong man had been reduced to this, a shadow of his former self. Oddly, the noble did not feel bad for the Phantom. He felt angry. He wanted to see Markus suffer for ruining this man.

Erik managed to regain his balance after a moment and stand on his own. He felt miserable. Never had he shown this sort of weakness. It likely came from being poorly fed and from all the blood loss he had suffered since coming to the gypsy camp. Worse still, he was still exposed for all to see. He made to retrieve the tattered remains of his slacks, only to nearly lose his balance again.

"I'll help you," Raoul offered, retrieving the item he had seen Erik going for. He saw the unhappy look on the man's face as he helped Erik back into the tattered remains of his clothing. A look of pain passed over the Phantom's face as the slacks were returned to their proper place. "Are you alright?" Raoul asked, watching Erik closely.

"Do I look 'alright' to you, boy?" Erik spat, turning away from the noble and trying to leave of his own accord. Once again, he lost his balance and down to the floor he went. He managed to catch himself with his hands, though that only caused the flesh to tear open and bleed anew. "Damn it!" he cursed, slamming his hand on the floor of the cage.

Raoul looked from the man, lying defeated on the floor, to the tent around him. The fire was growing worse. It appeared as though the gypsies were just going to let the fire burn itself out. Perhaps they thought letting the Opera Ghost burn alive would bring in more money. It certainly would be easier to show a burned corpse. They wouldn't have to feed it. That would be more cost effective.

God, what was he thinking? Raoul shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his mind. He came to Erik' side and pulled the man back to his feet. "It is time to go," he stated. He tried to keep Erik's arm over his shoulders to help with walking, but the man pulled away.

"Allow me this one dignity to walk on my own," Erik muttered, staring straight ahead at the cage's open door. He slowly made his way to it, ignoring the pain in his feet. Raoul had yet to notice the several small nails which had been impaled in his feet. The boy hadn't even seemed to notice the blade sticking in his arm. That would have to go.

Without a word, Raoul led Erik away from the burning tent and through the camp. No one noticed them, as many were distracted by the fire. The odd pair was able to slip into the near-by forest without conflict, something the noble was very grateful for.

The former Opera Ghost had continued walking for as long as he was able. He wanted to be rid of that Hell on Earth. He had no intension of going back. It was too much to bear. He finally fell to his knees as the emotional and physical turmoil of the recent time became too much for him. He ripped the blade from his arm and tossed it away. He doubled over on himself, holding himself. He allowed the torment to take hold of him finally, as cries of anguish escaped him.

Raoul didn't know what to do. They were well hidden in the forest, but it could be possible that someone would hear Erik. That was the last thing they needed. It would not be long until Markus would notice the Phantom missing. The leader would send out his men to find Erik. To be found now would spell doom. Markus would be enraged upon finding Erik had escaped. That rage could end up killing the former Opera Ghost.

The noble sat across from the man, knowing that he would need to do something to calm him. What could he do though? No words would take away what had happened to the man. He suspected that the torture only brought back memories of the other time at a gypsy camp.

He remembered back to the lair when Christine had been able to stop the Phantom's madness and anguish. She had shown him humanity, kindness. It was likely something Erik was unaccustomed to. It was all he would be able to offer the man.

Raoul pushed himself over so that he was sitting next to the tormented man. Slowly, he brought his arm around the former Opera Ghost. With a slight pull, he brought the tortured man closer to him so that he could hug him. It felt odd, hugging this man, but he was surprised at the reaction it elicited. Erik began to calm down and was soon silent.

The man had fallen asleep, Raoul realized. For now, he would have to let the Phantom sleep. It would do no good to wake the man. He would willingly wait until Erik was awake to begin setting about a plan to rescue Christine and Eloise. He could only hope that the Phantom would be willing to help and that they would be in time to save the women.

xxx

AN: How was that? Looks like Raoul might not be such a fop after all.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Hello readers. Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Your reviews make me want to continue writing. Here's a nice, long chapter.

xxx

Winter had invaded the forest, covering the cold earth in a fine layer of snow. To be out in these conditions unprotected could prove detrimental to one's health. It was for this reason that Markus had temporarily called off his search for the Devil's Child. He could not very well have his men ill during this time of the year. He needed the men able bodied if he were to have his camp survive the winter.

Since his main attraction was missing, Markus had settled for a new attraction-the Devil's Lovers. The two women were slowly bringing in crowds. People were fine with seeing the women tortured as they were associated with evil. How easy it was to sway the minds of the weak.

x

Erik awoke sometime later, though he had no way of knowing how long he had been asleep. The lair was cold, much colder than it normally was. He forced himself to sit up, not yet opening his eyes. Pains returning to his body made him come to awareness.

He looked about him, now realizing that he was not in the lair. He was back in the forest-back to remembering all that had so recently happened to him. His wounds were not bleeding, but the pain from them was becoming worse. At the very least, where his flesh had been skinned, the basal layer of skin had remained. The missing skin could grow back-in time.

The Phantom vaguely remembered being released from the cage by the boy. But, where had the viscount gone? Why would the boy leave him alone in the woods? Hmm, likely to die.

The sound of someone approaching set him on edge. The clip-clop of cloven hooves told him enough that this person was traveling by horse. He was not strong enough to fight anyone off, certainly not Markus' men. The last thing he wanted was to be forced back into that cage. Going back to the camp was not an option. What could he do then? The horse was visible now as well as the man riding the creature. What a surprise that it was a man dressed in gypsy garb. Would his suffering never end?

He tried to stand, tried to back away, but it was useless. He could not walk; the nails from Markus were still impaled in his feet. The cold from the snow certainly had not helped either. His body was slow, and there was no escape. It was easier to give up. He stopped his struggle and simply sat on his knees in the cold, wet snow to await his fate.

Raoul had gone in search of lodging and transportation shortly after the Phantom had fallen asleep. It was clear that the man was worse off than he had initially thought. Never had the Opera Ghost let down his guard in such a way in front of him. Would it even be possible to save Christine and Eloise now? It had been luck that he had been able to free Erik. Could he really expect that same amount of luck, for Fate to smile on him, to save two more from the gypsy camp?

He had come back to find Erik awake. It seemed that Erik did not recognize him, as the man had tried to back away. Eventually, the man had fallen and tried to crawl away, only to stop. It looked like the man had given up and was simply awaiting his fate-or untimely demise. Never had Raoul seen the Phantom give up on a fight so easily. The man had once been an unstoppable force, but now he could not recognize the person kneeling in the snow below him.

Erik was becoming more frustrated as the gypsy and his horse waited in front of him. He glowered up at the animal and the other man. "What are you waiting for?" he hissed with anger clear in his voice.

The horse became frightened by the view of the man's face below him. The handler had no hope of controlling the animal as it reared up in an attempt to escape the monster. The rider fell to the ground with a hard thump and a grunt of pain. Still, the horse continued jumping up and down, perhaps hoping to dispose of the thing in front of it.

The gypsy was Raoul, Erik realized as he got a good view of the fallen man. He had to admit that he was surprised with the viscount. The man had successfully managed to disguise himself. Now was the matter of dealing with the frightened horse.

He forced himself to stand, ignoring the pain in his feet. He looked away from the fearful creature and simply reached out his hand, waiting and knowing that the horse would eventually calm itself. He knew better than to try and overpower a scared animal. He would let the horse come to him.

And, as predicted, the horse did calm itself and slowly come to him. The animal sniffed the damaged flesh on the hands, not quite understanding it. Still, the horse pushed its snout into the outstretched hand of the human.

"There now," Erik muttered while stepping to the side to stroke the horse's strong neck. It might also have been to use the horse as support-though he would not admit that to himself. "I will never harm you." Harming an animal was something he could never bring himself to do.

"I don't understand," Raoul stated, coming to stand beside the Phantom. "The horse was frightened and out of control. Yet-"

"You might be surprised to know that I have more knowledge than simply murder and music," Erik replied, finally succumbing to the wretched pain in his feet and being forced to sit in the cold snow. He looked up at the man. "You look like a gypsy."

Raoul removed the dark wig and tossed it to the ground. "I stole the clothes. Had to fit in to get into that camp." He awkwardly scratched at the back of his head-only to find strange lumps. "What the hell?" the viscount commented, more to himself than the Phantom. He could feel that the odd lumps would move, but he could not remove them.

"What are you going on about?" Erik questioned, confused about the boy's actions. When no response came, he picked up the discarded wig. Perhaps an answer could be found there. Had the boy come down with lice? That certainly would be worth a laugh. Sadly, no, that was not the answer. He pulled a swollen tick from the hair. "You have ticks," Erik stated while tossing the bug away.

"Ticks?!" Raoul questioned, more than surprised. "How did that happen?" He began scratching at his scalp, trying to remove the blood suckers.

Erik groaned in annoyance, forcing himself to his feet again. He grabbed the other man the shoulders, forcing the other to look at him. The brief look of shock was enough to tell the former Opera Ghost that he finally had Raoul's attention. "If you simply pull them off, the head will remain lodged in that thick skull of yours."

"My skull?" Raoul questioned, eyes going wide. He had never had to deal with anything like this. He had grown up away from such things. It was rare for him to so much as see an insect in his home, let alone have one sucking his blood.

The former Phantom sighed. "It is an expression, De Chagny. Now, if you would, kneel down so that I can more easily remove the ticks from your scalp. There is no need for you to come down with Lyme disease now, is there?"

"They carry disease?" Raoul questioned as he did what the Phantom asked. A grunt was the only response he got as he felt cold fingers slipping over his scalp. It felt odd to be in this position. The former Opera Ghost was using one hand to lean heavily against his shoulder. The other was doing the work of finding the insects. "Are you alright?"

Erik scoffed. "Do I look 'alright' to you?" He continued his work, though it was difficult to make any process in removing the ticks. The easiest way to remove the insect was by, quite literally, unscrewing them. Still, the small wooden splinters that Markus had forced under his finger nails and never removed were making the process exceedingly painful and difficult. There was the added annoyance of being out in the snow with barely any clothing. There were also the nails in his feet making it difficult to stand.

"Can I help?" Raoul asked, quietly noting that Erik had not yet removed any of the insects.

Taking help from his once enemy was something Erik was loath to do, but he knew that there was little other choice. He would do what he must. Slowly, he brought his hand away from the boy's scalp to show him the splinters. "Try your luck at removing them. I am unable to…for reasons."

Raoul nodded, though he was not entirely sure how to do it. The splinters were just long enough that he would be able to remove them using his fingers alone. But, did he simply rip them out? Would that cause more damage? Or did he pull them out slowly? But, wouldn't that cause more pain?

He decided that less damage was likely the best route. The Opera Ghost liked to play musical instruments. Causing more damage to the already nearly-destroyed hands likely would not end very well. But, when the slow approach only ended in Erik grunting in pain and damning him to Hell, the viscount decided that slow and steady would not win this race. He settled for quickly removing the offending objects.

The pain of having the splinters removed was something Erik would not care to remember. The relief, however, was well worth it. After having the boy do the same to the other hand, the once Phantom of the Opera went about removing the ticks. It was a simple fix, and he stepped back to then sit beside the horse once again when the ordeal was finally over. "Dog ticks," Erik supplied. "They do not carry the disease. You will be safe."

Raoul felt about his head, cringing when his fingers passed over the slightly open wounds from where the ticks had been. He knew better than to complain. He had no right. Glancing at the Phantom, whose attention was now on the horse, he wondered how the man had survived. He looked like Death, much more so than normal. His injuries were grievous, and the cold was likely not helping.

The cold, the snow! How could he have been so stupid? Here he was having the Phantom help him when he had not done a thing for the ailing man. The former Phantom only had tattered pants to wear to protect him from the cold.

"I brought clothing," Raoul stated, coming out of his thoughts. He walked over to the side of the horse to the saddle bag. Erik didn't bother moving, or even saying anything, so Raoul simply leaned over him to fetch the article from the bag. He pulled out a simple white shirt along with a long, black overcoat. He thought that it would suit the Phantom. It was his own clothing, but he would not complain in offering it to the Phantom-to Erik. He offered it to the man.

"How odd," Erik muttered as he took the clothing and quickly began to dress. "The first piece of clothing my mother offered me was a mask. The gypsies, quite obviously, offer little to nothing. Hmm, Persia was half way decent, I suppose. Aside from what needed to be done to get said clothing and riches."

"Persia?" Raoul questioned, somewhat taken aback by the Phantom-Erik, he reminded himself-telling his history.

"Murder," Erik supplied nonchalant. The boy knew full well what he was capable of. "In that land, it is survival of the fittest-and of those who hold favor with the Shah. Still, this is odd." He once again forced himself to his feet, needing to lean against the horse. He looked down on the expensive clothing. How strange this was. He dressed as he was with the Viscount dressed as a gypsy. "You treat me as a man. Stranger still, you never forced the mask from my face. Why?"

Honestly, Raoul did not know the answer. Perhaps it was because someone else had always done it before him. Still, he never had felt the need to. He didn't answer but merely went back to the saddle bag. It was fast approaching evening. He needed to get Erik something to eat and then back to their temporary lodgings. "I brought shoes and socks," Raoul stated, holding them out to the other man. They may not fit well."

"Hmm, the nails in my feet would prevent that anyway," Erik replied. The look of shock on the Viscount's face was almost enough to make him laugh. Almost. He leaned heavily against the horse and picked up one foot. It seemed almost impossible, but De Chagny's eyes only grew wider. "Markus enjoyed in his torture. The crowd particularly liked this act. Though, they seemed to be enjoying the show you interrupted." The memory of the particular torture Markus had been inflicting just before the fire distraction brought a searing pain to that area. "Thank you for interrupting that show…Raoul."

"You're calling me by name?" Raoul questioned, further surprised. It appeared that the once Phantom would never cease to amaze him.

Erik smirked before forcing himself up onto the horse. "Would you prefer I call you something else?" He offered his hand out to the other and was surprised when the viscount accepted it and saddled up behind him. The closeness wasn't awkward, and it didn't bother him.

Was Erik trying to joke around? Raoul was not sure, but he would take the bait. "I don't know, _Angel of Music_. You tell me."

Any feeling of brief friendship disappeared from his mind. "Have I not suffered enough?" he questioned, not looking back at the viscount as he urge the horse to begin its journey, though he did not know where to. "I am captured and tortured in that camp in an attempt to save her, and you must bring up the past."

Raoul was taken aback by his reaction, the sudden shift in personality. "I didn't think-"

"No one ever does," Erik replied bitterly.

Raoul was silent for a moment before leaning over to go into the saddle bag once more. He trusted the former Phantom enough to not let him fall-or make him fall. He pulled the item from the bag and looked at it for a moment. It used to bring him such dread and anger. Now it brought him some hope. Perhaps he could help Erik become the fearsome Phantom once more in order to save Christine and Eloise. He could only hope.

He reached around the man-feeling slightly awkward, and offered the man the item. "They left it behind when they attacked us. It seems as though you draw some form of strength from it."

"The mask," Erik replied while taking the item from the Viscount. He brought the horse to a stop for a moment to stare down on the white porcelain. He put it in place, feeling a sense of almost calm-perhaps security-come over him. He started the horse back on its journey again. "It keeps the monster away."

"The monster?" Raoul questioned.

"That would be a story for later, boy," Erik replied.

Raoul sighed, looking at the snow beneath them. "I think I preferred 'Raoul'."

"As you wish," the masked man replied, continuing them on only God knew where. It would be nice to have some directions, but he would wait for the dense fop-for Raoul, try to be nice-to offer them.

"What do I call you?" Raoul questioned. He felt odd about calling the Phantom by his name for some odd reason. He never heard anyone speak his true name. Certainly Erik did not expect him to know it.

Erik chuckled without mirth. "You seem to enjoy the same names as all the others-Phantom, Ghost, monster, beast. What was it you called me in the cemetery? Angel of Darkness? Perhaps Death would be an appropriate title. I certainly look close to it. Markus would have had that wish if you had not shown up."

"Your name is Erik," Raoul supplied, becoming sufficiently annoyed with this attitude. "No one is insulting you now. I am trying my best with you. Eloise and I came to the camp to find you to-"

The woman, Erik remembered. How could he have forgotten her? How long had he been trapped in that cage? What had become of her? "Where is she?" Erik questioned, turning to face the man behind him while stopping the horse once again. "Is she safe?"

How was he supposed to tell Erik that the gypsy leader had taken his wife? Raoul could only imagine what the leader was doing with her or doing to her. He was spared having to reveal what happened as two gypsy men suddenly came across their path.

"What are you two boys doing out here this late?" the man slurred. The woman with him began to laugh before hugging the man tightly around the waist. Clearly the two were drunk-or worse. The man pushed the woman away from him. "Mark is letting us play with his pet whore tonight. I hear that Eloise is great to have a go with."

"What was that?" Erik questioned, his tone dark. He ignored Raoul try to protest against him slipping off of the horse. He landed sturdy on his feet. The adrenaline helped to numb the pain.

The man was clearly oblivious to the very real danger he was in. He looked at the man in front of him from head to toe. "Hey, you aren't a part of the camp. Why are you with one of the gypsies?"

Erik didn't reply, but he merely placed his hands on either side of the man's face. "I fancy men," he lied before kissing the drunken gypsy full on the lips. He pulled away quickly enough to see the shock on the man's face. That look would stay forever plastered on the man's face as Erik snapped the man's neck in one fluid movement.

The woman screamed and tried to run away. But she was not fast enough to escape the Phantom's clutches. He caught her by her hair and pulled her tight against his chest. She stared fearfully into the mismatched eyes. "You-you're the-"

Raoul came to stand beside the angry man. "He's the Phantom of the Opera. Now, what is this that we hear about Eloise? See, she is the Phantom's wife."

"The Devil's Whore," the woman spat. He fear was quickly bringing her out of her stupor. "Markus caught her. The men get to have their way with her. Rape her at will. Soon they'll get to have little Christine too."

"No," Erik ground out before quickly snapping the woman's neck too.

Erik backed away from the dead bodies, running his hands over his head. That only caused him pain as he went over old injuries. It was finally all catching up to him. His body crumpled under him, sapped of its energy. "Why," he screamed at the darkening sky, not caring who heard him or what Raoul thought of him, "why must You always destroy the things I love? What did I do to You?"

"Erik," Raoul interjected while going to the man's side. He didn't exactly know what to say or do. Clearly, the man blamed God for the atrocities that had befallen him in life. He settled for simply sitting beside the crumpled man and slowly putting an arm around the man's shoulders. Oddly, this seemed to calm him. "Erik, we need to go. You need to rebuild your strength."

"For what?" he responded, deadpan. "Markus has destroyed her. She will never recover. Before-"

"She told me what happened," Raoul interrupted. "But that woman seemed, for the most part, perfectly fine to me. She was happy with you. So was Christine. I pulled her away from you. Yes, Erik, you were right. I was unable to keep her safe, and now she is suffering. The both of them need your help. I need your help. Or would you rather they remain in that camp to be used as toys? Perhaps you want to happen to Christine what happened to you?"

"You bastard," Erik cursed, but he did not have the strength to attack the viscount. Instead, he let the boy pull him to his feet and force him back on the horse.

"Good," Raoul stated as he took the reins, not caring that he had to lean into the Phantom to do so. It certainly would be an interesting view for people to see. "Use your anger. It gives you power. It makes you focused. We are going home. You are going to get your strength back. And then, Erik, you will once again play the role of the Phantom of the Opera and kill those monsters, those beasts, which have harmed you and raped the ones you love."

xxx

Please review, my lovelies.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Hello evceryone. Thank you for all of the reviews. I am sorry for not updating recently. I have been traveling in Europe. Here is your next chapter.

X

Finding a hotel outside of the city where the gypsies were organized had been easy enough. Raoul had money, and in these parts of town, money was all one needed to get what one wanted. The room was quiet and away from anyone else. The only problem that presented itself was the fact that there was only one bed. The once Opera Ghost had simply settled for collapsing to the floor and falling asleep almost instantly upon their arrival. Waking up on the hard floor certainly had not helped his ailing, whipped back.

Erik was not focused on this, however. The viscount had gone out in search of food, insisting that they needed to eat. He had no use for food, never had. Often, he would forget to eat or simply see it as a waste of time and bypass it for the day. True, he had eaten when Christine had been in his house by the lake. He had prepared her food. Why would he not eat as well? He hadn't had the time to prepare anything for Raoul-then again, he had tried to kill the boy the first time he showed up in the underground home. The second time had been when the boy came asking for help to save Christine. He hadn't had the time-or inclination-to cook. He _should _have made a meal for the other unannounced guest to his home. She deserved it.

He did not blame Raoul for Eloise being taken. No, he took the full blame for that. If he had been more careful on that road that short time ago, none of this would have happened. How had he not heard those men? His hearing was acute to all things around him. Apparently, not that day. He had been attacked and taken away. The boy had simply been put aside. Raoul had explained that Eloise had found the fop and saved him. The girl had then been willing to continue on this crazy journey in an attempt to save him and Christine. The once Opera Ghost did not understand this. Why would she want to save someone she didn't know and someone like him? She had seen his face. She knew what a beast he was.

But she had not screamed. She had stared Death in the face and had not screamed, nor died. No look of disgust had passed over her face. There was a brief look of surprise, but that had been all. She had then proceeded to kiss him. The situation had been forced, but she had kissed him. And...later that night...she had willingly- No! He could not think of that now!

She was suffering for it. She was being tortured and "played with" as a result of being associated with him. Her mind had slipped into despair as a result of one man taking advantage of her. There would likely be no way she would recover from this. He was not yet strong enough to destroy Markus and his people-if they could be called people or even human. Hmm, but who was he to judge what was human? Perhaps Raoul could tell him. Still, he would bring down those creatures from Hell at the soonest moment. He had his deadline before Christine would become a victim; that was when he would have to be well enough.

So, the former Phantom found himself in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bath tub in an attempt to pull the nails from his feet. Certainly, it was not easy work. With his hands injured as they were, any prospect of pulling the nails free only served to reopen the basal layer of flesh. Certainly, he could not afford to damage his hands beyond repair. That would be foolish. Though he wished not to admit it, Erik sighed in resignation that he would need Raoul's help.

"I'm back, Erik!" Raoul shouted as he entered the hotel room, a basket of breads and various cheeses carried under his arm. With effort, the viscount forced the door to close behind him. He disliked this place. The room was small and dark. There was the one bed, a small ice box, a small wooden desk, a plain chair, and an ordinary bathroom. Still, he had to concede to the Phantom's point; this was inconspicuous. The gypsies could possibly think Raoul was involved in the escape of the Devil's Child. They all knew he was rich and would only stay in the best places. Truly, this place was like a closet compared to the opulence he was accustomed to. It was perfect. No one would look for him here.

Hearing no answer from the Ghost, Raoul placed the basket of food on the desk-which creaked as he set some weight on it-and went in search of Erik. As the room was so small, it was clear that the man was not in the bedroom. Seeing the door open to the bathroom, Raoul quickly glanced in. He found Erik with bloodied hands and feet quietly watching him.

"Hello De Chagny," Erik muttered, a dull look on his face. "It has proven rather difficult to remove these nails what with the lack of flesh on my hands. Care to help?" The look of surprise that passed over the boy's face amused him. "Come now. You are accustomed to my face but this surprises you? I will need to be able to walk if we hope to save Eloise and Christine."

Awkwardly, the viscount closed the lid to the toilet and then sat upon it. "It is not normal where I come from to have people walking around with nails in their feet," he commented. After a moment under the close gaze of those mismatched eyes, Raoul found himself with a foot in his lap. Eight black nails were present. There was enough room between the end of each nail and the flesh that he would be able to remove them by hand.

"You must go slowly," Erik grunted as Raoul began pulling at the first of the nails. "They are not long but are bent at a 90 degree angle."

"My God," Raoul replied, disgusted. How could someone do something like this? He managed to remove the offending object half way. After a moment's effort, he managed to fully remove it.

Erik let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Not God, I'm afraid. He left me very long ago-hmm, despite my mother's wishes. On with the next then, Raoul."

Hearing his name uttered by his once enemy continued to surprise Raoul. Still, he did as he was asked. Perhaps talking would help distract Erik from the pain. "Your mother was religious?"

"The gypsies were not the only ones to think me a demon," came the reply. "Do not force me to converse now, boy. This does hurt. Erik _is _human. He does feel pain!"

So, the process continued on silently, aside from a few damnations shouted Raoul's way when the viscount caused too much pain. After finally removing the foreign bodies, Raoul was then tasked with cleaning the wounds. It seemed that he was getting a crash course in medicine. It was so odd to him, having the Phantom patiently teach him something. What was more impressive was the fact that Erik asked for help. Truly, he was bad off to be willing to ask for his help.

Erik had dressed the wounds himself. Eventually he would need to do something about his back, but for now he would settle with cleaning his face. Markus had caused much damage to the already sensitive flesh. With a resigned sigh, he stood up and took the few steps to be in front of the mirror. The slight movement and putting weight on his feet hurt. Still, what could he do? He could only hope that his feet would not begin bleeding.

The man's resolve was outstanding, Raoul thought. He had just removed nails-nails!- from the man's feet, and now Erik was already up. "What are you doing? You shouldn't-"

"Whipping I can handle. That is a part of Erik's childhood. The nails were fine. You removed them fine. Oh, yes, thank you for that. Hmm, Erik's hands are in severe pain, but pain is a part of his life. No, he has to face the monster and clean his face. Markus took a knife to the bone and skinned away flesh." Erik interrupted while removing his mask and wig. Once again, he was forced to stare at his distorted visage. The beast, the monster.

"You aren't a monster," Raoul replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

The other man turned around to briefly stare at the viscount before grabbing Raoul by the wrist to make him stand beside him. Erik gestured to the mirror. "What do you see?"

"Two men." came the simple response.

"No. One man that women would love, and the monster" Erik corrected. He gestured toward Raoul's face. "All of your features are normal. Now, tell me. How do you suppose a child would react to my visage?" He waited a moment, and noted the look of discomfort that passed over the other man's face. "My first piece of clothing from my mother was a mask. I was never permitted to remove it. Hmm, one day I upset her by asking for a small favor. Would you like to know her response, dear viscount?"

Raoul could only guess. How could a mother react to the birth of her child and only give him a mask to wear? True, Erik was not handsome, but to treat him poorly from birth on...it was unbelievable. "I wouldn't know..." he answered, fearful of the response.

Erik continued, "She put me in front of a mirror and removed the mask. I _thought _a monster was going to attack me. I struck the mirror, trying to kill the monster. It broke-the mirror. The shards of glass sliced my wrists. There was quite a bit of blood, though Erik does not remember well. Hmm, my mother's friend saved me. Do you think she should have let me die?"

"No," Raoul stated, growing concerned over the Phantom's state of being. Yes, it was clear that the Opera Ghost in him was coming out. The man kept using the third person. Raoul had only heard that when Erik was trying to kill someone. There had to be something he could do to help the man in order to distract him from whatever horrors were plaguing his mind. "I brought food. Come eat something with me."

"As you wish," Erik responded. "I will be along in a moment." He closed the door as the viscount left the room, effectively closing him in with only his thoughts as company. What a danger that was.

xxx

The two women were currently on a break. Both were always called by their stage names-Angel and Ice, so neither knew one another's name. They were not allowed to speak to one another. That would earn them three lashes each. They were, however, permitted to write to one another.

Eloise sat in the back of the cage as the other woman took to walking around. She wished that she had the strength to do this-to walk. Her body was simply too weak. Her knees were rubbed raw from her "acts" with the men. This was something she was used to now, though. In the morning and until midday, the men could have her. In the evening she would perform with the other woman. At night, the men would once again get to have their fun. Some were nicer than others. Some would simply show up, say nothing, and go on their way. Others would be abusive. Markus was the worst. He enjoyed in torture. She had to wonder if Erik would ever save her.

She doubted it though. She knew that Erik had escaped during the fire. All of the gypsies had talked about it. Markus had been enraged. That had been a particularly brutal night for her with him. She tried not to remember, but the scars were there. That wasn't the point though. Erik would come back for Christine, or so she hoped. He would see her then and rescue her. And, more than likely, this other woman in the cage was the infamous Christine.

As Eloise was slowly allowing her mind to drift into that place between waking and sleeping, the cage suddenly opened. This jerked her to full awareness. It was not yet time to perform. It was Markus paying the two women a visit. Eloise's friend came to stand behind her. This was always the case. Christine always looked to the other woman for safety. Eloise was simply viewed as the stronger of the two.

"Hello ladies," Markus greeted, a sick smile on his face. He came to Ms. Daae and grabbed her hair to pull the woman close against him. He laughed at her cry of protest, spun her around, and pushed her against the bars of the cage. "If your precious Phantom doesn't come back soon, I will have my way with you." He pushed her away, watching with humor as she fell to a sobbing heap.

He turned his attention to Eloise. She had once been such a good girl. Now everyone took their fun with her. Markus approached her and knew exactly what he wanted. He pulled the woman up to her feet, turned her so she was facing Christine, and bent her over. "Soon this will be you, Madame!" he shouted as Christine was forced to watch.

_Angel of Music, _she thought as she watched Markus enter the other woman, _where are you? _

xxx

Raoul had gone out in search of more medical supplies per Erik's request. The supplies he had purchased were already expended. He did not mind spending the money, but the amount of damage that had been done frightened him. How could anyone survive something like this? Worse still, Erik had not even begun to clean all of his wounds. The viscount knew that the once Phantom would need help with cleaning the whipped flesh. There was also that more _sensitive _area that had been harmed. He had no way of imagining how painful an injury like that must have been. To have to clean it would likely only bring back the memories of the pain.

He entered the small hotel room with these thoughts in mind, wondering what Erik would be up to at the moment. Hearing cries of pain coming from the bathroom, Raoul had a pretty good idea of what his counterpart was up to. As the door was closed, the viscount simply settled for sitting on the bed to wait for the Phantom to emerge.

The toilet flushing and the door opening brought Raoul back to the present, as his mind had drifted away for the moment. He had to try and escape the screams of agony that continued to course from that other room.

"Hello Viscount," Erik greeted while not looking the man in the eye. He had thought that he was alone, and so he had gone about cleaning the damaged area that was oh so sensitive. He did not like to show weakness in front of this man. "And when did you arrive?"

Was this a challenge? Raoul wondered. There was something odd in the other man's eyes, as if the man was asking-telling?-him to lie. "Only a moment ago," Raoul responded. He watched as those mismatched eyes seemed to relax. Apparently, he had given the correct answer.

A sharp knock at the door distracted any further conversation. Seeing Erik quietly slip into the bathroom, Raoul surmised that he would need to answer the door. Hopefully, this was nothing serious to worry about. He was not a fighter, and he could not expect Erik to defend them if this was someone wishing to do them harm.

With a glance back to the bathroom, Raoul opened the door partially. Seeing that it was merely the manager of the hotel, he opened the door fully. "Hello Monsieur Hetfield. How may I help you?" He flashed a smile, hoping that everything was okay.

The man frowned, glancing into the room. He noted the bed was in disarray, but everything else seemed to be in perfect order from what he could see. "Someone complained of screaming." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You might think this hotel is old and down trodden, but I-"

"Oh, please do not blame my friend," came another voice from the room.

As Raoul was standing part way in the door way, Hetfield was unable to see who this new man was. Soon though, a tall man glided up behind the other. He found it odd that the man wore a hat indoors and that the brim covered half of his face, but he didn't question it. Strange people always came through his hotel.

Erik continued, "See, it was not my friend doing the screaming. No, he is the one who can elicit that response in me. I'll try to be quiet next time." He smirked as the owner's eyes widened. How easy it was to make men uncomfortable. Were it a man and woman, perhaps the owner would have asked to join in on the fun. As it was two men, well, it certainly was a different reaction.

But, it was Erik's turn to be surprised, "Invite me next time boys. I will hope to see you later." He held out his hand to Erik, as if wanting to shake hands. When the man had captured the once Phantom's hand in his own, he brought his lips to the flesh to place a kiss to the wrist. With a wink, he turned and left the two men.

Awkwardly closing the door, Raoul looked at Erik and then back at the door. "What in the Hell-" Hearing Erik begin to laugh-truly jovial-his surprise died out to laughter of his own. The once Phantom of the Opera had convinced someone that they-the Viscount and the Opera Ghost!-were lovers.

"Perhaps he will come back with flowers for me!" Erik laughed, removing the hat and going to sit at the small chair in the room. When it broke under his weight, he only began to laugh more. He picked up one of the broken legs, "Yes! Upscale indeed, Raoul! He will believe you broke the furniture having your way with me."

"Oh, here I thought you would be the dom, Monsieur Phantom," Raoul joked.

"Hmm," Erik purred, "only when Erik needs to teach his little Viscount a lesson." Seeing the look of surprise-and red in the cheeks?-come to the boy's face, the former Opera Ghost laughed further. "It is but a joke. Disturbed as I am, I do prefer women to men."

Raoul shook his head. "Yes, of course. Though your friend may need to be told that."

Erik stood and gave a bow. "All in the acting, my dear boy." A ripping pain in his back brought Erik down to his hands and knees. The sudden pressure on his hands only served to crack the flesh in places, blood pooling on the floor.

The viscount found himself helping Erik to his feet and into the bed without any conscious thought. "It would appear we need to clean up your back."

Sighing in defeat Erik began trying to undo the buttons from the front of his shirt. The blood on his hands only made it difficult-if not impossible. When the viscount pushed his hands out of the way and began to unbutton his shirt for him, Erik smiled. "Now, what would our friend think if he were to walk in at this very moment?"

Raoul looked into those mismatched eyes and met the challenge there. He put his hands on the other man's shoulders and pushed him into the mattress. He leaned in close to the man, "That I am about to ravish my love."

Oh, the boy wanted to play? With a smirk and a quick moment, he was able to pull the viscount onto the bed and flip them over so he straddled the boy's hips. It seemed that even with his diminished strength, he was still able to surprise and overpower the boy. "And what would he think of this?"

An odd feeling passed through the viscount as Erik stared down on him. He wasn't certain what it was, but he did not want it to go away. "You tell me," Raoul answered, still unsure.

Erik tilted his head to the side, trying to determine what was going on in the boy's mind. The look that he was receiving from the viscount put him on edge. He did not know what to make of it, nor did he know why he had not removed himself from the boy's hips.

The door suddenly opening only made the situation worse. Erik quickly laid flat against the viscount's chest to hide his face from the intruder. He heard the boy's fast heart beat and then felt arms circle his lower back. The viscount told whoever was at the door that they had the wrong room. Hearing the door close behind whoever had entered the room, Erik sighed. He propped himself up on his elbows, not yet bothering to get off Raoul. "Very convincing show, Raoul. You managed to convince a total stranger of your gay lover. Where have you learned to act so?"

"Some old, eccentric man back at the Opera House," Raoul answered. He still hadn't released the other man from his hold.

"Old?" Erik questioned. A wicked grin crossed over his face as his hand quickly dipped between them to touch the member that had been poking his leg for the past five minutes. He massaged it for a moment, earning a quiet moan from the viscount. "Not so old to get a response from the young viscount!"

The widening of the boy's eyes and intake of breath at being touched made the former Phantom laugh before he pulled himself away from the boy to stand up. He stared down on the embarrassed boy who had quickly sat up and put his hands in his lap. The attempt to hide his arousal only made Erik laugh more. "Strange. Perhaps Erik is playing for the wrong team! I have already caught two men's attention and one is aroused-"

"Oh, shut up," Raoul growled. Why had he reacted so? When Erik only continued to laugh at him, the viscount grabbed one of the pillows from the bed to smack the other man in the face. That quieted him up. Raoul smiled in triumph and began to laugh himself.

The laugh was quickly silenced when Raoul found those deformed lips on his. He didn't push the man away or even resist. He leaned into it after a brief moment, and brought a hand up tentatively to the deformed face. The other man pulled away.

Erik smiled and sang quietly, "Don Juan will triumph once again."

"You are-" Raoul began feeling infuriated. What the hell was going on?

"Irresistible, it would seem," Erik supplied.

"Impossible!" the viscount shouted. "Now get your ass on this bed so I can clean up that back. I can't have you dying on me."

"Oh?" Erik questioned while removing his shirt fully. Obediently, he sat on the edge of the bed. Seeing the look of frustration on Raoul's face, Erik cocked his head to the side. "Oh, is Raoul upset with his Phantom of the Opera? He has done as he was told."

"Lay on your stomach," Raoul ordered while sounding annoyed.

Erik was quite enjoying this. "Make me." The look of surprise that passed over the boy's face made a wolf like smile pass over his face. "Come now, dear viscount. I told the owner you can make me scream. Can't you make me-"

His words were swallowed up as the viscount grabbed his face and pulled him into a hot kiss. That was certainly something he hadn't expected. The moment of surprise worked in favor of the viscount as he was able to pull away, turn the man around, and push him face first into the mattress.

"Now, I am going to clean your back. You are going to be a good boy and stay quiet so the owner does not come back for play time," Raoul commanded.

"Why is that?" Erik challenged, not really expecting an answer as he felt a wet cloth being wiped across his ravaged back. The deeper wounds hurt, and it took much self control not to cry out at the pain. The medication to clean the wounds would only be worse. The wounds would also need to be covered and bound after that.

Still, an answer came, "I do not share my play things."

xxx

Hi all. So, this chapter was a little different from the others. It would seem Raoul is interested in other forms of meat. Maybe I will develop this, maybe not. Let me know!


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